


Burnout

by lollercakes



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fandom Trumps Hate 2020, Fictitious Non-Fiction, Firefighters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: Peeta Mellark, Canadian wildfire firefighter turned aerial firefighter specialist, finds himself on an exchange mission to the Great Down Under during one of the busiest wildfire seasons on record. He goes for the work but winds up finding much more than that after being paired up with less-than-impressed Katniss Everdeen, a volunteer firefighter who's just trying to do right by her community and keep her family's head above water. What could possibly go wrong? Or, maybe even right?A Fandom Trumps Hate submission, in before the deadline!
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 68
Kudos: 121
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jroseley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jroseley/gifts).



> I've been picking away at this story for JRoseley for over a year now and she has patiently been waiting for me to wrap it up and now it's done. She's graciously given permission for the story to be shared with all of you so here's to hoping you enjoy it as well :) As a side note, I'm not Australian, I know very little about firefighting, and the only real thing I can contribute to the authenticity of this story is my love for the characters in question. I make no claims on accuracy. At all.

I was dead-tired. The flight to get to Melbourne -  _ flights _ , to be accurate - had taken almost thirty hours and I was exhausted from the lack of sleep and the miserably small seats that I’m pretty sure are torture devices that the airlines have devised to shame us lower class plebians. That, or maybe I was just being punchy because I still wasn’t at the hotel yet. It was hard to say. 

“How much longer?” Finnick Odair, our technical lead for this whole exchange, asks the driver from the passenger seat of the van we’d all piled into at the airport. 

Finnick, Robert Cato, Clove Williams, Thomas Marvel and myself. The sacrificial lambs from the Canadian fire service who’d been sent to Victoria Province, Australia, to assist in the worst wildfire season the country had on record. It wasn’t the first time Canada would lend bodies to firefighting operations around the world and it definitely wouldn’t be the last - there just weren’t enough experts in the trade for a planet that was getting so hot it was starting to catch fire. 

I have to forcefully push the thought away as it makes the Environmental Studies student in me sour, especially when idiots like Cato - idiots who don’t believe in global warming, generally - get on their soapbox about the whole thing. I still couldn’t believe the man had somehow made the roster for this trip - he was a fool at best, dangerous at worst, and somebody had thought it was a good idea to send him abroad to advise on tactics for ground response. I had had to bite my tongue when Finnick told me - the quip about nepotism dying in my throat. There were just some things better left unsaid, I had to remind myself. 

“About ten more minutes,” the driver replies. Finnick sighs and leans back in his seat, turning his head lazily towards me. 

“Peet, you still alive?” He asks with a lilt in his voice, lips curving up in his trademark smile. 

“Barely. I just wanna crash somewhere flat,” I grumble in return. Finnick claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, his expression understanding of my general disposition in this very moment. 

“Soon, Mellark, soon.” 

* * *

We’re only given a few hours to shower and rest at the hotel before Finnick is calling our rooms and ushering us down to the lobby to pile into the waiting van. I join the group with my mop of blonde curls haphazardly brushed into some semblance of professionalism as I try to ignore the lines that the pillow crease have left scattered across my cheek. 

“Good sleep?” Clove greets as she pulls her own tangled mess of hair back from her face to reveal her sharp features and toothy-smile. 

“Could have done with another hundred hours, but it’ll do for now,” I quip as Clove laughs. The bed had been glorious and the fact that I hadn’t gotten more than two hours rest had been a bitter pill to swallow as I pulled on my uniform.

The laughter dies as we move through the morning traffic towards the main operations centre for our orientation and meet and greet with the crew coordinating the response effort. The plan was that we’d spend the afternoon learning as much as we could from HQ on how the fire system worked here before breaking out into our designated units and rotating into the response to give the local responders a few days of relief. We were here to be a release valve for the system that was straining under the pressure of the ongoing fight, a group of trained experts who could dive into any situation and learn it quickly to bring new ideas that could turn the tide. 

I was determined not to be nervous, though it could be argued I had every reason to be. I’d never done international firefighting integration before this and it was too big of a response to screw up - I needed to be sure that I was on my game for when I actually started advising so that maybe I could do this again in the off season back home. Something at least to get me through the winter months if the job market seemed slim and I couldn’t rely on the summer income I built each year. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” a shaggy-haired man greets us as Finnick slides open the door to the van and climbs out. Finnick laughs and grabs the man up in a hug that is too awkward to look away from, the man trying desperately to disengage himself from the embrace. “Enough - enough,” he growls as Finnick bounces back with a wide smile. 

“Team, my old friend and mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. He's the head of operations while Chief Alma Coin is on leave so you do what he says until the lady is back, got it?” Finnick instructs and we nod, hands tucked in our pockets like well-behaved cadets. 

We’re led through the building floor by floor, from the reception area upwards towards the roof where the main operations centre is running at full speed. Walls are covered in maps and screens, the lights bright as bodies cram into desks and scribble endless notes. Tucked in the corner is a small coffee station that looks barren and I can’t help but think that this operation needed a bit more life added to it to make the windowless room more bearable. No wonder we’d been requested to come in - the people here looked rough, hair unkempt and dark circles under their eyes after weeks of stress. 

The fire season had been going on for months and though there had been periods of ease where the fires had slowed, there had also been peak periods where it seemed like everything was on fire for days on end. Australia’s request for help had come after weeks of struggling to stay afloat, the people slowly burning out after unmanageable pressure. 

“Mellark, over here,” Finnick calls as the rest of the team is taken to the other side of the room. I move quickly, eyes scanning the maps over the workstation as I go to try to figure out just what I was looking at. “This is Portia Taylor. She’s been in charge of aerial operations for the past few weeks. You’ll be cycling in for her while you’re here since you aren’t cleared for field work.” 

“Got it,” I say evenly around the bundle of nerves in my chest. Portia reaches out to shake my hand and I take it quickly, a wide smile on my face. “I’m Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Are you here to start or - ?” Portia pauses, looking between Haymitch and Finnick. 

“Nope. Kid’s coming with me for a bit longer,” Haymitch answers gruffly before turning on his heel and heading towards the center of the room. “Alright, everyone, head’s up. These new faces who look ten years younger than all of us are a flock of Canadian geese come to relieve some of the ops. You’ll meet them if you need to or if you’re feeling particularly friendly, whatever. If you see them wandering the building, show them where the bathrooms are and then get back to work. That’s it.” 

Beside me Finnick sighs, shaking his head as he looks back at me. “Old man never was one for great team building. Come on, we’ve got a classroom session for the next hour.” 

The afternoon rolls by in a blurry mess of information, the overall rundown of the operation to date eventually followed by an overview of the local politics of response and who has ownership for specific regions in the area. I try to take it all in, to process it as quickly as I can, but it’s a lot and technically it’s like three in the morning for me so I’m fading fast no matter how much coffee I swallow back. 

When we do finally wrap up, I’m half-catatonic, a zombie dragged back to the hotel where I grab some food from the restaurant before retreating to my room. I force myself to stay up for another few hours, pouring over the notes I’ve been provided but barely registering anything. I’m so exhausted that I don’t even realize I’ve fallen asleep until my alarm is blaring the next morning and I’m half-buried in my notes, my prosthetic leg pinching from the angle. I’d forgotten to take it off last night and I knew I was going to pay for it all day, my body already beaten up from the long flights. 

I try not to focus on the discomfort as I go about my morning routine, mindlessly starting the coffee machine and disappearing into the bathroom. Once I’m showered and a bit more alive, I head to my bag and pull out a clean uniform just as a quick knock at my door sounds.  _ Finnick and his love of breakfast _ , I lament internally, heading towards the door and pulling it open without a second thought. 

“Oh! Shit!” The woman outside the door yelps, her eyes going wide as she lets them drop from my neck to my sock-feet, my exposed chest red from her appraising gaze.  _ Shit indeed _ . “I’ll just - you go get dressed,” she says evenly despite the redness that fills her cheeks as she pulls the door closed for me. 

I hastily don the rest of my clothes, tucking in my shirt and fastening the buttons up to my neck. When I re-open the door, the woman is leaning against the wall across from me, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed as though she didn’t have another care in the world. 

“Sorry about that - thought you were my colleague,” I mutter as she startles and looks up at me. Her grey eyes drop once again and she practically deflates at the sight of my uniform before she shakes it off and steps forward. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m Katniss Everdeen,” she adds, sticking her hand out between us. I take it easily, ignoring the spark I feel at her touch and instead focus on how she frowns but doesn’t let go, her brow furrowing more with every second longer that she holds on. 

“Alright Katniss. Nice to meet you. Am I supposed to know who you - “ 

“Damn Haymitch,” she repeats, dropping my hand before stuffing her fist in her pocket, body rocking on its heels as she takes a breath. It’s then I notice the logo on her shirt, the volunteer service lettering hidden beneath. “Yes - sorry. I’m one of the volunteer firefighters in the area and I’ve been ordered to escort - er,  _ bring _ \- you to the aerial scan this morning. Haymitch Abernathy sent me?” 

“Got it. When do you need me ready by?” I counter and she frowns again, looking at her watch and then back to me. 

“You’re not ready now?” She looks me over and when her eyes meet mine there’s only confusion in her gaze. 

“I need a few more minutes to get my things. You can come inside, if you want,” I offer, holding the door open for a moment longer. She takes a hesitant step forward and I twist away, desperate to hide the grin growing on my face. “I’ve got my notes and key… Phone, wallet. Coffee...” I mumble as I collect things from where I’d scattered them last night. “Sorry - it’s not normally like this I’m still a bit jet lagged.” 

“No problem,” Katniss replies and it’s only then I see her hovering in the doorway, her foot between the door and the frame as she keeps it propped open. I’d laugh at the sight if I wasn’t a little bit stung that she didn’t trust me enough to let the door close. I had to get over that feeling quick though - this wasn’t my crew and she had no reason to trust this stranger whose hotel room she was calling on at seven in the morning.

“Alright, ready.” 

Katniss nods and disappears out into the hallway, her feet almost silent as she moves lightly down the aged carpet. I watch as she goes, taking in her smaller stature, the way her lithe frame hides the muscles I’m sure she’s built from the season so far. Her dark hair is pulled back in a long braid and when she turns the corner towards the elevators I see it flick with the motion, the sight making a smile form on my lips. 

“How’d you get stuck with babysitting duty?” I ask as we wait for the lift, my hands clasped together in front of me as she bounces from foot to foot. 

“Abernathy doesn’t like me very much,” she grumbles and shrugs, her attention focused on the lights marking the floors. 

“I’ve only met him for a few minutes but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like many people that much,” I offer as the light pings for our floor and the doors open. I hold my arm across the door and motion her in, following quickly after. 

“You don’t even know the half of it. But I’m here and I’m doing what I’m told so we’re going to get you to the airfield and then I’ll be free to get back to my unit - “ 

“The airfield?” I question, exiting the elevator and stopping at the cafe in the lobby to grab some breakfast to go. 

“Yes - aren’t you on aerial ops? You’re Peeta Mellark, yeah?” She stops and looks up at me, examining my face for a moment before pulling out her phone and opening the display. “This is you, right?” She holds her phone up to me, my passport photo glaring back at me. 

“It is. I just thought I’d be in the operations centre while down here.” She puts her phone away and shrugs, crossing her arms once more over her chest. 

“I can take you there too, but orders were for the airfield and I’m pretty sure that’s not optional. But if you want to get picky - “ 

“No, I don’t. That’s not what I mean. I’m just not usually approved for field work,” I reply lamely, hoping she won’t ask for more details. 

“Sounds kind of ridiculous, considering where you are. But orders were clear so…” 

“Right. Orders it is then,” I say with a shrug, paying for my breakfast and stuffing some of the items in my bag. I’m glad she doesn’t push - I don’t really feel up to having the conversation about my leg, not now anyways. It always seemed to inevitably lead to someone taking pity on me -  _ poor Peeta Mellark, robbed of his true calling in life, missing a limb and less of a man because of it _ \- I hated it. I’d rather people just treated me normal, even if my normal was different than theirs. 

“Good,” she huffs as I turn to face her again, ready to follow as she uncrosses her arms and turns once more towards the entrance. “Since you’re not usually cleared for field duty, let’s just get you there and then they can figure out where you’re supposed to be after that? It’s too high above my paygrade to question what that Abernathy fool wants.” 

“Sounds good,” I answer with a nod, following her lead as we head out to the parking lot. “Too high above your paygrade, eh?” I can’t help but joke as we climb into a beaten up truck. Katniss turns and glares at me, her head shaking. 

“We’ve got a jokester here, ha ha,” she mocks, though I don’t miss the small smile that paints her lips. 

The rest of our conversation en route is filled with sarcasm and dry wit, her quips pointed as she harasses me for everything from my accent to my height. It’s the kind of morning I need to bounce back from my travel exhaustion and I say a small bit of thanks for being paired with this woman as my escort for the morning. Er, wrangler, I mentally correct myself as I forcefully pull my mind out of the gutter. It wasn’t good form to hit on your colleagues, especially in this business where burned bridges were exactly the opposite of what you wanted with relationships you needed to trust to pull you out of a burning building. 

It’s just - Katniss was attractive and I couldn’t deny it. From her sharp grey eyes to her dark skin, she was easy to look at and good -  _ God, _ Mellark, pull it together! I have to stuff these actualities back into the recesses of my mind so I can focus on the crisis at hand, ignoring the way my mouth keeps rambling on despite itself. I would not try to hit on Katniss Everdeen. I would  _ not _ . 

Unfortunately, the airfield is almost an hour away on the other side of the city and the drive there is almost too pleasant for my self-control to contain myself. When we pull up to the entrance that’s cordoned off by active-duty officers keeping the traffic limited to essential personnel only, I silence myself as Katniss is quick to pull her ID from the mirror and garner us passage through the gate. We spend the last few minutes together with Katniss explaining how the volunteers differ from the staff firefighters in a way that finally makes sense to me. I quickly realize they’re the lynchpin of the response - community workers who step up even when the ask is great. They’re a critical team of dedicated individuals who despite everything else happening in their lives, fight fires without batting an eye. By the time we park, my opinion of the woman beside me has grown tenfold, her commitment to making a difference putting mine to shame. 

“We’re meeting Johanna Mason on pad three, apparently,” Katniss instructs, following the map on her phone until we’ve reached a helicopter pad where two women are standing in jumpsuits. 

“Finally made it with your ward, eh Brainless?” One of the women greets, grabbing Katniss’ shoulder by way of greeting. The second woman, Portia from the day before, turns to greet me with a smooth smile and a look between Katniss and I. 

“Good to see you again, Portia,” I state easily, drawing her attention towards me. “Katniss here was telling me we’re air-bound - is that true?” 

“It is. Odair cleared it with Abernathy this morning. Is that alright with you?” Portia asks, her angled brow lifting in question. 

“Yes ma’am. Are we on the hunt for new outbreaks or working on prediction models?” 

“A bit of both. Damage reports and to give you an overview of the area. You ever been in a ‘copter before?” Portia asks as she hands me some gear. 

“Couple times back home. I’ve been on a few trainings with the smokejumpers in the states but that’s never been my area,” I offer. 

“Good, then you won’t puke in my bird like this goon,” Johanna interjects, pointing her thumb at Katniss who growls and kicks her in the heel. 

“I threw up out the door, Jo, come on,” Katniss responds darkly, her arms once more crossing her chest in what I’ve come to recognize is a layer of self-defence for her. 

“Happened on my first time up too,” I state in support, flashing her a quick smile. 

I need to  _ stop now _ , before I do something I’d regret. 

“Interesting fact, Mellark. Can we get going now? Can’t take a break until we land and there’s another coffee promised for me when I get back to the breakroom,” Johanna says wistfully before sliding on her sunglasses and thrusting a helmet into my hands. 

“Don’t need to convince me,” Portia adds and moves towards the front seat as Johanna goes around the other side. 

“Mellark, you’re in the back. Make sure you strap in. Brainless, see you on the flip side.” 

“You’re not coming?” I ask quickly to Katniss, walking backwards towards the side door as Johanna starts the engine and the noise level goes from zero to a hundred in an instant. Katniss shakes her head and gives a quick wave, retreating to the other side of the fence and leaving me to climb into the jump seat and buckle in. 

I snap the helmet into place and Johanna’s voice runs her checks through my earpiece, the blades whipping into motion and causing everything around me to vibrate with a familiar hum. I check my clips again just to be sure as Portia gives me the thumbs up and I nod, holding onto the straps as we ease off from the landing pad. I glance out at Katniss a final time and give her a quick wave as we lift higher into the sky, her smile wide as she shakes her head and walks back in the direction of the parking lot. 


	2. Chapter 2

I fall asleep in the cab back to the hotel, my cheek pressed up against the window and the quiet lull of the driver's music soothing me unconscious. When I wake, it's to Finnick pulling open my door and my body almost faceplanting into the cement.

"Shit, Finn," I scold as my heartbeat slows, the near miss making me tense as I get to my feet.

"What? You can spend the afternoon up in a chopper but three feet from the ground makes you nervous?" He chides in return, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he steers us towards the bar. 

"At least if I fall from that height I'll die. Three feet and I'll just end up breaking my nose," I mutter. "Look, I'm beat. I'd rather just head upstairs if you're good to eat alone tonight?"

"Oh, no, no. Not happening we've got dinner with some locals tonight. Marvel corralled some of the ground crew and Cato sweet-talked a few from ops. You're gonna come have a drink, eat something green, make nice  _ and then _ you can go sleep off the lag, okay?"

"Do I have to? Isn't it worse if my brain still doesn't function properly in the morning? Aren't you worried about that?" I groan, pausing my step to hold him back a moment. I really just wanted to crawl into bed and take this damn prosthetic off to give my leg a break, was that really too much to ask?

"We're firefighters, Peet. We're social creatures by nature. Come out tonight, meet some of the crew and make nice so you can depend on them and they can depend on you, alright? One hour."

I look once more at the group and catch sight of a long braid, dark skin and a frame that reminds me of this morning and the hallway outside my room. Maybe an hour wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

One hour turns to three and by the end of it I've realized the crews down under can drink me under the table. I'm half-drunk by the time our waiter brings us our checks and I spread my cash out on the table, my bleary eyes trying to figure out pathetically which bill is which.

"Two of these and this one," Katniss says lowly, her fingers pulling the bills loose from my grip.

Hours two and three of my attendance had been at her insistence - okay, maybe not insistence, but definitely at her quiet encouragement.

_ "You should stay a bit longer. It's still early."  _

She hadn't had to say it twice. I'd spent the past three hours getting to know her and a few others from her unit. They were all volunteers, a rag-tag group from the outskirts of town who'd joined up a few years prior. Katniss explained upon further prompting that she was a waitress at a place called Greasy Sae's while her friend Gale was an airplane mechanic, the two having been friends since they were teenagers. I didn't ask if they were together, though the sour looks Gale threw me whenever I leaned in to tell Katniss something definitely gave me a vibe I didn't want to ignore. It was the 'tread lightly' kind of look and it made me pause. 

On the other side of the table with Cato and Clove, Ruth 'Rue' Harrows sat with a man who was her complete opposite in stature. Where she was petite, barely crossing the height requirements, Thresh was built like a truck. Brother and sister, despite the difference of appearance, Rue was a student at the University of Melbourne and Thresh was gunning for a full-time spot with the metro fire department, apparently. 

The group was entertaining and loud and where back home we likely would have been kicked out for our behaviour, the hotel only served up pitchers on the house. A thank you for all the work we were doing to fight back the never-ending wall of fiery destruction. 

"Alright - I've gotta head to bed before I crash," I state evenly despite the alcohol in my system which was making the world a bit wobbly.

"Cheers, mate. See you around!" Gale calls, his arm lifting to rest on the back of Katniss’ chair as I get to my feet. The rest of the table says a quick round of goodbyes before I head towards the elevators, my feet practically dragging with every step.

"Peeta wait!" Katniss' voice sounds from behind me, jogging to catch up. "I'm on babysitting duty again tomorrow and Abernathy wants me to take you round some of the stations to meet more of the units."

"Oh, okay. When will you be here?" I ask as my brain struggles to process her words.

"I was thinking seven, we could get an actual breakfast and then hit the road. Sound okay?" 

Breakfast, with Katniss? I mean, I wasn't in a place to turn it down, even if it was an appealing invitation in and of itself.

"Yeah. That sounds good. I'll try to even be dressed this time," I joke and the laughter dies on my lips as Gale joins us at the exact wrong moment. He wraps an arm around Katniss' shoulders and lifts his brows in question.

"Get off, you goon," Katniss grumbles, shaking his arm loose and looking between us quickly. "It's just a joke. He wasn't ready when I showed up this morning, that's all."

"It is, is it?" Gale questions, refusing to let the suspicion drop. "You know, in these parts we don't sleep with our colleagues - "

"Gale! Fuck off, you know you're just saying that to be an ass. Go wait in the car or something, I've gotta work," she growls and pushes him until he grumbles something under his breath and heads away. "Sorry about that. He can be a bit of a dick but he's my dick, you know?"

I swallow, realizing what she's saying and the truth of the situation. Gale and her were definitely something and I had to lock myself down before I let any fool notions get in my head and in my way. 

"Sure. So I'll see you tomorrow then?" I confirm, stuffing my hands in my pockets as she lingers.

"Yep. Have a good night, Peeta. Try to get some decent sleep," she adds before nodding, turning on her heel and moving towards the exit. 

I swallow my impure thoughts and punch the elevator button, channelling my restless energy until I can toss myself into a cold shower and forget all about Katniss Everdeen.

* * *

A week passes and I finally think I’ve got an understanding of the system, Katniss’ morning babysitting stints doing wonders to orient me into a complicated system of territory, politics and a crisis that needed to be tamed. 

By Monday, Portia is finally able to take her first day off in weeks and when Katniss pulls up to drop me off at the operations centre she puts the car in park and turns to face me head on. 

“My unit is back on duty this week so Haymitch is moving me off of being your escort,” she says as I pause while gathering my things. I glance up at her, waiting for her to continue. “That means I won’t be here to get you every morning. You’ll need to figure out your own rides and stuff.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s easy enough,” I answer and she frowns, looking out the side window before turning back to me and grappling for my phone from my hands. I let her have it without protest, watching as she chews her lip and taps her fingers across the screen. 

“There - you have my number if you get lost or confused or something,” she says and hands the phone back. 

“I doubt I’ll get lost - “ 

“Or anything, Peeta. My shifts are normally 24-48 but we’ve switched them around so right now it’s this clusterfuck of 24 on 24 off so I might be garbage to respond if I’m on shift and out in the field. But I’ll try to get back to you, alright?” 

“Got it. Thank you - for this, everything. It’s been a lot of help,” I add lamely, unsure what to say. I didn’t want to overstep but having Katniss see me through this first week had made the chaos of it almost worth it. Now I was on my own and though she’d given me a lifeline, I doubted that I’d use it - not with Gale in the picture or her hectic schedule. She didn’t need that additional annoying factor in the mix. “Be safe out there, alright?” 

“You too. Make sure you get out for some daylight every day, alright?” I laugh and nod, climbing out of the truck and tapping the hood in goodbye. 

Katniss is at the gates of the centre when my phone buzzes and I open up the chat box to see an unknown number replying to a message she must have sent. 

_ Stay alive _ it reads and I tap out a quick  _ you too _ before tucking my phone in my pocket and heading inside. 

I spend the day keeping my head down, attending meetings and watching the reports come in from the various teams as they move through the region. The schedule for the next week is already shot by mid-day when the wind in the east shifts and causes the wildfires that were almost tamed to flicker back to life. I try to keep an eye on things through my pilots in the field, watching the videos and commentary they send back to the centre through my lunch break and into the early evening. 

When the time comes to rotate off shift I rub my eyes and send out my daily reports before getting to my feet. The cab ride back to the hotel is silent and I manage to send a few quick messages home before I flip through the other notifications for the day. One is from Katniss, her braid hanging in the photo of her work boots covered shin-deep in muck. The caption reads “Nearly drowned lol” and I scramble to open the chat box and type out a message.

_ Drowning? I thought it was fire season, not flood season - 9:34pm, Peeta _

The dots pop up almost instantly, starting and stopping before her message arrives. 

_ Dried out creek bed with a secret underground stream. Dropped knee deep in the thing. Ok tho - 9:35pm, Katniss _

I shake my head and picture it happening, Katniss’ small stature dropping into the ground as surprise bursts across her face. Gale had probably pulled her out. Maybe Thresh. Either way it would have been a sight to see.

_ Got any pics? - 9:37pm, Peeta _

_ That sounds dirty - 9:38pm, Katniss _

_ Nah, you know what I mean! - 9:38pm, Peeta _

My phone buzzes once, twice, three times as the photos begin to fill my screen. The shots are from someone else, Katniss’s equipment-laden body sunk down deep in the mud as she tries to pull herself out with her ground tools. The next one shows her steely eyes glaring up at the cameraman, her finger outstretched towards them in scorn before the last shot appears with her being yanked from under the arms by Thresh. 

_ Rue caught it all on camera so I guess I’ll never live it down - 9:40pm, Katniss _

_ Not if you keep sending them around, that’s for sure lol - 9:41pm, Peeta _

_ True. But I thought you might appreciate - 9:41pm, Katniss _

The message arrives just as the cab pulls up to the hotel and I have to focus on paying the driver before grabbing my things and crawling out of the backseat. I make my way through the lobby and grab some takeout from the restaurant before heading upstairs to my room. Grabbing a quick shower, I change into my sleep shorts and sit on the edge of my bed to let the air con roll over me as I pick away at the veggie sticks and chicken wings they’ve shoved into a box for me. 

My notes from the day are spread out next to me and I pour over them as I eat, doubling my time to get some final work in before calling it quits. Distracted, I barely hear my phone buzz in my pants pocket as I finish the page and reach to grab the device. The screen lights up with another message from Katniss and I smile as I open it, surprised at the mess of things that have poured in during my silence. 

_ I’ve spent half my shift covered in mud and now I’m spending the other half cleaning it off of me - 9:45pm, Katniss _

The text comes with a photo of her bare feet standing in the grass as she sprays her gear with a hose. The boots only just appear under the water, their bright yellow standing out as the brown goo starts to rinse away. 

_ Hopefully your day has been better? Did you get lost? - 9:52pm, Katniss _

_ Actually, hope you’re not still at the ops centre? Tell me you’ve at least gone home for the night? - 9:55pm, Katniss _

I look around the room and settle for taking a side selfie of myself with the paperwork and my sad box of wings, a compromised smile on my face. 

_ Am home. Trying to finish up before getting some sleep. Speaking of, isn’t it lights out at the station? - 10:03pm, Peeta  _

I don’t think twice about sending the message, half-expecting it to be missed as she’s likely already crawling into bed. It was the one thing she’d told me she was having a hard time with - the routine of station life for her unit which was usually more like a fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants type. 

With the emergency state that had been imposed, volunteer units were being stood up to backfill exhausted paid units and that meant following similar schedules and living out of the station when they were on shift, condensing the teams into small living spaces so they were ready to respond as the fires shifted and new outbreaks popped up at insane hours. 

_ It is but Gale is snoring so loud I want to murder him - 10:05pm, Katniss _

_ I’ve moved to the couch and I can still hear him - 10:05pm, Katniss _

The phone buzzes with a call and I swipe it open, a smile filling my lips at the caller ID. 

“If Finnick were your captain right now he’d be dragging you back to the racks,” I greet. Katniss snorts and groans, a laugh escaping her chest. 

“I can imagine. It’s not my fault. I’m not used to sharing a room with anyone other than my sister and now I’ve got five roommates to deal with. It sucks.” 

“I used to have to share with two brothers growing up. I know how bad it can be. I thought though - I mean, nevermind,” I stumble over the assumption, surprised that Katniss would say she wasn’t used to sharing a bed with Gale… That didn’t make sense. 

“No - what were you going to say?” She prods, her voice light. “You can’t leave me hanging here.” 

“I just - I figured you’d be used to his snoring. It was rude, sorry,” I apologize and even though she can’t see me, my cheeks heat in embarrassment. 

“Oh,” she pauses, clearing her throat on the other end of the line. “That’s not - Gale and I, we aren’t… He’s like a brother to me, Peeta,” she adds with a tight laugh. I swallow the lump in my throat and lean an elbow on my knee, closing my eyes and trying to shove down the feelings that bubble up inside of me. 

“I thought - hey, I’m sorry.” There’s a long silence on the other end and I hear rustling, the phone being stifled as things open and close. “Katniss?”

“Yeah - I wanted to get outside for a bit,” she answers, out of breath but her voice relaxing more with every syllable. “Sometimes I just need to feel the grass between my toes for things to be more grounded. Mum says it’s my father’s tribal roots showing and maybe it is, I don’t know. Do you ever get that?” 

“I do, I think. I like when I’m out in the mountains and I wake up and crawl out of my tent and I can see for miles. It’s like I’m on Pride Rock or something. It puts the vastness of everything in the world back into perspective. I don’t have anything like tribal history though to explain that feeling,” I chuckle, packing up my papers and sliding back up on the bed to get more comfortable. Clearly we weren’t following lights out orders tonight and with the revelation that Katniss wasn’t with Gale, well, I couldn’t just remind her we both needed rest and hang up on her. I don’t think I could ever hang up on her, not willingly at least. 

“Neither do I really. Dad died when I was young and Mum never really got over it so she’s always pretended like we don’t have any aboriginal blood in us. Keeps her head in the sand, you know?” Her voice softens the more she speaks and I feel my chest tightening, my heart going out to what must have been a difficult childhood. 

“I can’t imagine - I’m sorry. That must have been tough,” I answer and Katniss sighs, letting the thought linger for a moment. 

“It’s why I signed up for the service. He volunteered in our community as a fire warden and he died while on a response to a house fire. Mum and Prim hate that I volunteer too but I can’t  _ not _ do it for some reason. Only Uncle Haymitch gets it but even he tries to keep me on administrative shit. Though maybe meeting you wasn’t such a bad thing,” she adds and I smile to myself, humming my acknowledgement. I didn’t want her to stop talking, not when she wasn’t usually this talkative despite my attempts to find out more about her. “Sorry, I feel like I’m rambling on and I haven’t even asked you anything about yourself.” 

“No - I’m boring, I like listening to you,” I answer on a yawn. She snorts and I can practically hear her shaking her head in exasperation. 

“Sure you do, as you fall asleep on me.” 

“Promise I’m not. What can I tell you about myself that won’t put us both to sleep?” 

“What was it like for you growing up?” She asks lightly and I picture her spread out in the grass, the phone tucked next to her chin. 

“Well, my parents are bakers so a lot of carbs. My brothers and I had to find ways to burn them off, obviously, so we were big into wrestling and my Dad put us all into Scouts because that’s just what you did in our town. I stuck with it through highschool despite the teasing though because I liked the adventure part of it and somehow that turned into summer jobs at camps and stuff. Mom was always annoyed because she would have rather I worked at the bakery all summer but Dad convinced her it was better for my college applications - “ 

“Was it?” 

“God no. I went into a program that only really cared about my marks. But the practical skills and the team building actually helped a lot more than I’d expected. The summer of third year I took a position with the parks service to be on the wildfire unit and that’s when I really got into this all. Kinda just developed from there, I guess,” I pause, debating whether to tell her the full story of how I got  _ here _ , in particular, the mess with my accident and being sidelined from my burgeoning career.

“So you’re just naturally crazy, it wasn’t born into you?” She teases, making me grin. 

“I guess you could say that. No bloodlines here that I know about. In fact I’m pretty sure my family is on the avoid-fire-at-all-costs side of the spectrum - ” 

“Everdeen! What the fuck are you doing out here?” Abernathy’s voice sounds in the background and there’s a rustling as Katniss swears and clicks the end button, the line going dead abruptly. 

I shake my head, picturing her laying in the grass and the surly Haymitch coming up on her and surprising her up to her feet. The vision makes me laugh and I grab my phone from my pillow and type out a quick message before turning and plugging it in for the night. 

_ Better get to bed before Haymitch fires you - 11:07pm, Peeta _

I release the clasps on my prosthetic and set it beside the bed before tucking myself into my sheets, curling up in the warmth of the blankets while the air con spins around me. The buzzing of my phone makes me grin and I reach for it, opening the message with a tightness in my chest. 

_ Yeah, like he can fire someone working for free. If you don’t hear from me in 48 hours though I’m buried under the station. Night Peeta - 11:09pm, Katniss _

I set the phone back on the bedside table and settle in to sleep, thoughts and images of Katniss floating in my mind as I fall deeper into slumber. 


	3. Chapter 3

The first real stress test of my filling in for Portia comes a few days after she’s rotated out to help with field ops, her quick goodbye reminding me how fast things changed here with the operation evolving almost every day. 

I’m settled into my station with a new coffee maker and pastries lining the counter behind me - a small gift I’d rummaged from the hotel kitchen staff as they took pity on us - when a call comes in from one of my units flying over the east of the city. The line is loud, chaotic, and when Johanna’s voice crackles across the speaker I nearly drop the phone in surprise. 

“The fire’s shifting west, Mellark,” Johanna calls out, the sound of wind whipping around her reminding me quickly of where she is - up in the sky and flying over the edge of Yarra Ranges National Park. 

“You sure? This isn’t a joke you’re pulling?” I ask evenly despite how my nerves ripple and my hands move quick enough to get paper cuts as I unearth the map she’s covering. 

“Serious as a heart attack mate. Better get some units to do readiness clearance along a fire line.” 

I keep her on the line for another few minutes as she confirms the look and spread of the flames, the smoke curling up into the sky reminding her of the need to get west sooner rather than later. When I let her go it’s only to pick up the phone again and call Haymitch, ordering the ground units to relocate to start developing a prevention trench from where the head of the beast is growing. 

“You wanna be certain on this call. Lotta homes out there that we’ll be moving units from,” Haymitch warns. I nod. 

“I know - Jo knows what she’s talking about and if it’s going to jump in the next couple hours we need to get ahead of it. Can you get it done or should I link in other regions?” 

“Nah, we’ll get ‘er under control. Thanks.” Haymitch adds and then hangs up, the line going dead as I sit back in my chair. 

It seemed too easy to just call someone and be done with the action. Too easy to be in the operations centre as my orders move other people into harm's way. The thought makes me nauseous and I get to my feet, heading for the stairwell to be alone for a couple minutes. 

I push myself to run laps up and down the staircase, my body moving through the motions with trained muscle memory flaring back to life more with every step. By the time I’m on lap three my leg has started to ache, the prosthetic rubbing uncomfortably against my flesh as I force myself up another few flights. When my leg finally gives out, the device clipping on a stair and making me collapse down onto my hands, I nearly scream in frustration. 

To say that I was used to my prosthetic was true. To say that I felt whole with it, that I no longer suffered from the loss of my leg, was a lie. Sure, I was lucky to even be alive after what happened to me, but that didn’t stop me from feeling sorry for myself when I couldn’t resume reaching the physical limits I’d long since established for myself when I was first setting out. Learning to walk again had been hard and I’d fought for every mile that I gained in my recovery but I’d never fully returned to the person I was before I got hurt. 

The physical limitations had been something I’d learned to live with - I knew I could no longer lift the weights I’d mastered, or run the distances I used to, but I could still push myself until it hurt. It’s just the pain showed up a lot sooner than it once had. 

And today was no exception. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” I growl as I push myself back upright, wiping my scraped palms against my pants. When I go to walk up the final steps to the operations room there’s a hitch in my step, the movement on my raw leg aching as I move. 

Back at my desk with my cheeks ruddy from the exertion, Finnick finds me and lifts his brows in surprise. 

“You feeling okay? Get a little sunburnt or something on your lunch break?” He asks lightly, leaning on my desk and watching me frown down at my paperwork. 

“No. Was trying to burn off some energy on the stairs and tripped - “ 

“Peet - “ 

“No, I’m fine. Really. Just frustrated,” I mumble. Finnick’s hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes briefly before he pulls himself back. 

“Alright then. I’m going out on some training sessions with new recruits. You wanna come run them into the ground with me? I’m sure we can steal Portia back for a few hours - “ 

“While that sounds delightful, I’m pretty sure they’d walk all over me right now.” Finnick sighs and nods, chewing his lip as though he wanted to say something more. He hated when I was in a mood for hating my circumstances, his usual happy-go-lucky self unsure what to do with someone determined to be miserable like I was at this very moment. 

“Got it. Text me if you want to connect for dinner then, otherwise have a good night,” he says and bounces away from my desk, meeting up with his local counterpart to head out.

I turn back to my maps and videos and try not to feel the growing tension in my neck, in my back, that told of the frustration bubbling in my gut. By the time my shift wraps up and I’m able to head back to the hotel I’ve more than had it with the day, my body aching as I take the elevator down the few flights of stairs and crawl into the backseat of the cab. The ride back is silent and I don’t bother to check my phone, unwilling to avoid Finnick’s follow up messages or any of Katniss’ notes from her day. 

The lobby of the hotel is alive when I get there, uniforms from the force filling every nook and cranny as the bar overflows into the reception area. I try to slink by unnoticed and beeline for the elevators, hoping against all that is good and holy that I’ll be able to get by without someone recognizing me. 

I don’t. 

“Peeta!” A familiar voice calls from behind, the heavy arm settling on my shoulders as Gale comes to lean against me. He smells of smoke and alcohol and when I glance towards him his eyes are bleary, bloodshot from the heat and what had to have been an active day on the line. “Where you rushing off to? We’re celebrating!” 

“Not tonight, thanks,” I respond gruffly, shaking his arm loose and hitting the elevator button a bit too forcefully to seem calm. 

“But you must. Rue got her first hop-scotch today and your boy Marvel nearly got her killed. Don’t you want to come celebrate the good times your  _ experts _ are bringing?” His voice drops with shrouded malice, his arm returning to loop around my neck. I try to duck away but he only cinches it tighter, holding me against him. I could break free if I wanted, could push him aside with ease, but I also heard what he was saying and concern got the best of me. 

“Is she alright?” I ask, glancing around the group for the small woman. 

“Oh yeah, she’s right fine. But since Marvel isn’t here to receive her thanks, I thought you would do nicely for the event.” 

I nearly groan as Gale drags me towards the group, my whole body too tired for whatever he has up his sleeve as he slides us between bodies and towards the center of the gathering. When we get there he releases me abruptly, forcing me to stagger back up to full height as though I’d been walking funny to get there. 

“Rue, I’ve brought you your sacrifice,” Gale crows, his arms stretched out as if to present me to her. She looks up from where she’s sitting at a table with Katniss whose hair is coming loose from its braid, face smudged with soot. 

“Why’d you bring him? He wasn’t the one that almost got us killed,” Rue grumbles, turning back to her drink. Katniss’ eyes catch mine as she looks between Gale and I, concern etched in her brow. Beside me Gale sways, his hand coming down sharply on my shoulder. 

“Oh but I challenge that - was it not an aerial ops order that put us along the fireline today?” 

Shock filters through my bones and I look between them all, Thresh’s gaze flickering up to mine. 

“He was just doing his job, Gale,” Katniss hisses, her eyes bouncing from mine to Gale’s and then back. Rue echoes her words and takes another drink, rubbing at her face to avoid looking at any of us. 

“And you trust him? More than Portia? How do we know he’s actually competent? How do we know he’s even been out in the field before? He’s barely got a scratch on him. Boy probably has never even seen - “ 

“Just leave him alone,” Katniss interjects, glaring up at Gale as he continues wobbling around us. The other units have started to turn towards him, their ears perked for his accusations as each one turns to look at me. 

“ - He’s got every hair on his head perfectly in place and - “

“Enough, Hawthorne,” Abernathy’s voice rumbles from behind me, commanding and far from the caustic sharpness that had echoed across the line at me earlier today. “You made the right call today Mellark. This idiot just needs to burn off a bit of steam, don’t you?” Abernathy adds, gripping the back of Gale’s neck like a scolding mother. 

“Come on,” Katniss says, surprising me as she pulls my arm and drags me back through the crowd towards the elevators. We reach the bank and she slaps against the buttons as she turns and crosses her arms, looking up at me with a tired expression. “Did you really make the call to put us in the line of fire today?” 

“Yes,” I answer because there’s no point in lying. Even if I’d known she was on the unit being sent out I still would have made the call - it had to be done and that’s the kind of business we were in. I couldn’t just decide to let neighbourhoods catch fire because I was attracted to one of the people on the frontlines and didn’t want them to be in harm’s way - that wasn’t what firefighters did and she should understand that. She should - 

“It was the right call,” she interrupts my thoughts, her eyes finding mine as the elevator doors open. I limp into the lift and lean heavily against the wall, watching as she debates staying in the lobby bar with the others. At the last second she ducks through the opening and sidles up beside me. “Why are you limping? Leg asleep from sitting all day?” She chides, bumping her elbow against mine. 

“Just some discomfort, that’s all,” I answer noncommittally. I was too tired to get into this tonight. Too tired to take on any of the emotional labour this conversation would stir between us. 

“Sounds like an excuse but who am I to say as I escort you to your room under the guise of wanting to make sure you get home alright without anymore harassment from the guys.” 

“Yeah well, at least it’s not a far walk,” I grumble as the elevator chimes and the doors slide open. I make my way down the hall with as much strength as I can muster, forcing myself to suppress my limp as I try to keep myself upright. Every step aches and I wish for the first time that Katniss hadn’t followed me, that she’d stayed downstairs with Gale and her friends because then she wouldn’t have to see the tight lines on my brow or the clench in my jaw. 

“You actually look like you’re really in pain. What’s going on?” She presses, watching me with those grey eyes that can pry secrets from my soul. Taking a couple steps out ahead of me, Katniss turns and walks backwards to keep her eyes on me as we close in on my room. “Peeta - stop. What’s actually got you limping? I can see it in your gait.” 

“It’s an old injury. It’s nothing,” I answer, sliding my key into the lock and opening my door. I step inside and half-expect her to get the message, to head back downstairs without a goodbye, but she simply pushes past me until we’re both in my hotel room, standing with our arms crossed over our chests in frustration. 

“Show me then,” she commands sharply, her gaze never wavering. 

“What? I’m not showing you my injury - I barely know you,” I snap back. 

“Sure - like we haven’t been chatting daily for almost three weeks. Come on - I’m a professional. I’ve got advanced paramedic courses and I’m not a dolt. As long as it’s not bloody I can treat it.” 

“Not bloody? You’d make a terrible paramedic,” I lament and step further into the room. My only tactic is hopefully to delay her enough to get her off track, eventually sending her on her way so that I can get some ice from the machine and soak my leg before bed. 

“My mother and sister got the real medic genes. I just got the deathwish ones. Come on, show me what I’m working with so that I don’t worry about you having to get your leg cut off from some spider bite or something.” 

Her words nearly make me bark out a laugh, the reality of them too on the nose to handle as I sit down on the edge of the bed. 

“Fine,” I mutter, reaching down and grabbing my pant leg to roll it up to my knee. She kneels down before me and the evolution of her expression would be priceless if this were anyone else, if this was any other girl than the one who had started flickering through my dreams as of late. 

Once the fabric is firmly tucked around my ‘knee-joint’, Katniss looks up at me with her mouth hanging open and reddened cheeks. Her eyes are wide and her brow is furrowed and if it wasn’t pity that started to storm into her expression at just that moment I might have found it cute. But then she swallows and her lips move like a fish out of water and there’s an awkward pause as she looks back at my prosthesis. 

“So forget my comment just a second ago because that was a really dick move of me,” she whispers, unwilling to make eye contact with me as she tightens her fists against the carpet.

“You didn’t know. Not your fault,” I answer, letting my pant leg drop down to cover the top of my shoe. Katniss gets back to her feet and rests her hands on her hips, her head turned away as she chews on the inside of her cheek. 

“I guess that means I should go,” she says abruptly, sparing a glance towards me before she turns on her heel. She stalks quickly towards the door before reaching for the handle, stopping, and turning back to face me. “I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. I’m sorry.” She adds and swings open the door, fleeing into the hallway and leaving me to watch as she goes. 

My heart sinks further as she leaves, the pain from my leg not only riddling through my body but making me lash out as I throw my wallet across the room. Of course Katniss wasn’t attracted to someone like me. Of  _ course _ she wasn’t - who would be? 


	4. Chapter 4

I don’t hear from Katniss until a few days later, my phone silent as I go about my daily schedule of eating, working, and then more working. It’s daunting, waking up each morning and having to face the same exhausting fourteen hour days, my eyes bleary and my bones tired as I return to the hotel each night. When her text does eventually come through, I find myself surprised to see it blinking on my phone as I climb out of the shower and hobble towards the bed. 

_ Do you hate me? - 10:04pm, Katniss  _

I debate leaving it until the morning, crawling into my bed and trying to block out the world instead of face it head on, but the phone buzzes again with another notification as I ease myself down onto the mattress and I know I really can’t ignore it. Even though it’d only been a few weeks, Katniss and I had been developing something. What that was I couldn’t tell you, but it had been there and I’d felt the loss of her presence in my life just as hard as I felt the loss of a friend. 

_ I’m sorry I was such an asshole - 10:12pm, Katniss _

_ You weren’t. Why do you think I hate you? - 10:13pm, Peeta _

The phone rings not a moment later and I settle my back against the headboard to get comfortable before picking up the line. 

“Because I just - ran away like a child when you showed me your leg and it was rude and you didn’t reach out to me or anything after so I figured you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I’m sorry I did - I’ve never seen one up close before or known anyone with one and it just surprised me - “ 

“Katniss, slow down,” I answer as her words spill across the line, her apology mashing in with her rambling explanations and causing my brow to tighten. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed to be weirded out by it. God knows I still am.” 

“But it was rude to  _ you _ , Peeta, for me to behave like that. I understand if you hate me - “ 

“I don’t hate you, okay?” She sighs into the line and I can practically see her shoulders slumping, her hand rubbing over her face in the way she does when she’s tired. “Maybe we should talk about this another time, when it’s not so late?” 

“You  _ are _ mad at me,” she groans then and I want to reach through the phone and show her how  _ not _ mad I was. 

“You just sound tired and I know you guys had a hard day today. I get why you’re calling and it’s really unnecessary. I understand - you don’t need to apologize for it,” I offer as a way to let her off the hook. Even if this meant we would go in different directions for the rest of my time here, I knew I needed to let her have this, to not see it as a slight against me. She at least deserved that. 

“First of all - Peeta, are you tracking my unit? And secondly, don’t try to brush me off because it won’t work. I know what I did was unforgivable but I want to make it up to you. Let me come pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go somewhere. Don’t say no?” 

“To your first question - are you tracking  _ me _ ? How did you know I have tomorrow off? And to your second question, I was planning on doing absolutely nothing tomorrow so - “ 

“Great then - you’ll do absolutely nothing with me then. I’ll be there at ten so you can sleep in. And we’ll discuss item one at that time. Say yes,” she urges and I sigh, looking around my hotel room and thinking about whether I wanted to stay locked inside all day with nothing to do but watch the TV and hope for something thrilling to get for takeout. 

“Fine - yes. But make it 10:30. I want to get my beauty rest,” I add and she chuckles, her voice bright with it. God, I wish she were here to hear that laugh in person. 

“Excellent. Goodnight Peeta.” 

“Goodnight Katniss,” I respond softly and the call ends, my phone buzzing a second later with a meeting invitation. Katniss had already used technology against me, setting a morning alarm with the meeting notification so that I couldn’t pretend to have forgotten. Not that I would… But still. 

I wasn’t angry at her. Not really. How could I be when I sometimes had the same thoughts she must be having - regret, pity, a hint of disgust? I couldn’t be angry at her for pulling back when she realized I wasn’t the person she thought I was. Hell, I’d pulled back too when she’d found out - maybe I was just as guilty for holding her at a distance as she was for retreating from whatever we’d been doing. 

These twisting thoughts follow me into sleep and when I finally slip away there’s no stopping Katniss’ appearance in my dreams, her smile lighting up my memories and turning my sleep into a hazy jumble of images. 

When the alarm beeps in the morning, drawing me back to life, I roll over onto my back and find myself staring at the ceiling. There’s no hiding the effect Katniss in my dreams has had on my body, my morning wood prominent and painful as I try to push the filthy thoughts away. If I just breathed through it - if I just focused on anything else - 

Ah, fuck it. 

I give in and shove my sleep clothes away, my hand making quick work of pushing myself to the peak and tumbling over. I come with a grunt, my palm blocking the mess and my body relaxing slightly as I reach for the tissues on my bedside table. I feel better, less anxious, as I clean myself and roll to the side of the bed. My hands make quick work of connecting my prosthetic before I get to my feet and begin readying myself for the day. 

Katniss finds me in the lobby, her eyes locking on mine as she nearly trips in her haste to make it to the elevators. 

“You’re already downstairs!” She quips, brushing the loose strands of hair back from her face.

“I am. Figured I’d save you the trip,” I respond and get to my feet, hoping she doesn’t notice how I’d purposely placed myself downstairs and ready for her so that we wouldn’t have to revisit the issue of being in my room anytime soon. 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” she mumbles and jerks her thumb towards the door, lifting a brow. “Should we go?” 

“After you.” I quickly follow her out into the lot and the bright sun beats down on my face as we climb into her truck. Katniss doesn’t hesitate as she turns the key and pulls out of the parking spot, heading for the exit before we’ve even really started with our ‘hellos’. 

It’s quiet as we get a kilometer down the road, and then two, and I can’t handle it anymore. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, watching as her lips quirk up at the edges. 

“Sorry - it’s a surprise. I wanted to get you away from the building before you panicked and asked to go back,” she says, shooting me a smile before turning her gaze back to the road. 

“Are you taking me to the outback to disappear me?” Her face pales as she glances at me, brows furrowed. 

“No! Why would you - what?” She growls and twists her hands on the steering wheel. I laugh and shift my hands in my lap, enjoying the way she squirms and the joke finally catches up with her. “Ha ha, Peeta, you’re a funny guy.” 

“I try,” I add and we settle into an easy conversation, the road ahead of us and the comfort between us growing more with every minute. By the time we reach the bay, Katniss is already regaling me with stories from her shift, the close calls and the inevitable boredom that overtook her unit as the hours winded to a close. 

“It’s good to get out and get some experience but being on shift leaves me exhausted. I can barely keep up at Sae’s when I cycle out.” 

“That’s because you’re not supposed to - your days off are supposed to be days of rest, not days of working your actual job,” I chastise as she shoots me a withering look, her head shaking. 

“That’s not how it works here. I’ve gotta keep food on the table and I’ve gotta do my part to keep the city from going up in smoke.” I nod and rub my chin, looking out on the water as we coast by it. 

“Have you thought of stopping? Or moving into the profession?” I ask and Katniss sighs, glancing over at me quickly before chewing the inside of her cheek. 

“I thought about signing up to get into the paid program. I think Prim would murder me though. She’s happy that I’m volunteering and everything but she wants me to go back to school and finish my degree - “

“You were in school? What were you studying?” I interject, surprising even myself with the urgency of it. Why hadn’t she mentioned this before? Worse, why did I care so much that she hadn’t finished? 

“It was a tourism degree - I was going to start an adventuring company but I couldn’t swing the tuition and had to drop out. Then it was harder to get started again and I just - I decided maybe that wasn’t my path forward,” she sighs and sits up straighter, her forehead tight with the memory. I can’t help but see the disappointment flicker across her face, the hurt of her situation causing her pain as we continue down the road. 

“If you could afford it, would you go back?” I ask lowly, almost hesitant to push her on what was obviously a sore spot for her. 

“If I didn’t have to worry about my little sister starving while I waste away food money on tuition? Yeah, I probably would. But we’re not at that place. Mum barely makes ends meet and I try to cover the gaps and save for Prim’s schooling but with this all going on - the fires and the craziness - it’s really hard to get ahead enough to go back.” 

“I’m sorry, Katniss. It sounds really tough,” I murmur and reach for her hand, hovering my fingers over her fist before I get up the courage to finally wrap my hand around hers. She unfurls her fist at the contact and where I worry she’s about to pull back, to put the distance back between us, she only turns her palm over in mine and threads our fingers together. 

“Thanks. It’s good to - I don’t know - have someone get my back on this,” she adds and flicks her gaze towards me, the bright grey of her eyes flickering in the sunlight. “But on a brighter note, have you figured out where we’re going yet?” 

“All I’ve got is that we’re on an endless drive, it seems,” I chuckle, looking out the window. For a brief moment I see signs of water on both sides and I sit up straight, confusion hitting me as she continues driving. “Are we at a lake?” 

“No, that’s Port Phillip Bay which Melbourne hugs along the shore and over that direction is the Bass Strait. Tasmania just beyond the water to the south. Still haven’t connected the dots?” 

“Are we - are you taking me to the beach?” I question, nerves rattling through me at the idea. I didn’t go to beaches. I didn’t go where there was sand, or water, or anything that would be unsteady under my prosthetic. I didn’t - she knew about my leg and still she brought me somewhere where I would struggle? She brought me to where she should have known I would be uncomfortable? 

I draw my hand back from hers and rub my face briskly, trying desperately to push the miserable thoughts from my head. Maybe she hadn’t realized - or she just thought it was a uniquely Aussie experience. Maybe she didn’t do it maliciously. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t - would she? 

“Peeta,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for mine and grabbing blindly at my wrist. I want to rip it from her hand but don’t, holding myself at a controlled simmer as we move further along the coastline. “Don’t freak out, okay? I did my research and you can handle this.” 

“How do you know what I can handle?” I growl, letting my hand rest limply between us. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to get sand in my joints, or my prosthetic wet and rusty and caked in dry salt. I didn’t want to stumble as she got to walk calmly through the sand, my fake ankle useless on the soft ground. It would render me pathetic, in need of saving, and I couldn’t bear the idea of being that man again. I’d already spent so much time being that person - I couldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t - 

“I talked to Finnick. I know that’s probably like crossing some line or something but he caught me coming out of your room the other night and he asked why I looked like the mess I did and he just - he answered my questions. Don’t be mad at him for it either - I was the one pushing him to tell me.” 

“That’s so - that’s beyond not okay. You should have talked to me about it. Me - the guy with the actual issue, right?” Katniss rubs her forehead at my words and then pulls the truck over onto the side of the road, the dirt screeching under the tires. 

“I didn’t want to ask you all the stupid and probably hurtful questions I had because I’m not as good at words as you! I talked to Finnick because he was there and he doesn’t have skin in the game and - “

“He isn’t me, Katniss. You didn’t talk to me about it. You didn’t talk to me at all until yesterday and even now I don’t - what am I supposed to say to this? You’ve driven us all the way out here and you didn’t give me a choice.” Her face falls at my words, colour heating her cheeks as she bites her lip and turns to face the windshield. 

“I needed time to think. I didn’t understand what it meant - if it made things different for me. I haven’t had the luxury of knowing you, knowing about this. I didn’t want to make it worse for you if I said something stupid or something painful by mistake.” 

“And so you’ve decided what? That I’m worth your pity now?” I grumble, watching as she recoils as though my words have burned her. 

“I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter to me. That it just means some things I’d taken for granted would be harder for you but that you are still the good guy I’ve wanted to get to know since I knocked on your door all those weeks ago. It doesn’t change how I feel,” she adds, finally looking at me with a steel in her posture, her eyes the only thing giving away how fragile she was holding on to her stoicism. “Please just give me a chance to show you why I brought you out here. Please.” 

I let her request sit between us, heavy in the air as I work on getting my emotions under control. Maybe I was being too harsh, or too wounded. Maybe I needed to just give her the benefit of the doubt because she hadn’t known and it would have been a shock to anyone. 

“I just wished you’d talked to  _ me _ ,” I whisper harshly, looking at her with tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I try to swallow them back and rub my hands over my face, clearing my throat as her hand settles over my knuckles once more. 

“I will. From now on I promise I will, if you’ll forgive me just this time.” 

“Alright,” I mumble and my chest releases the tension it’s been holding, my whole body relaxing at the word. She nods abruptly and pulls back, putting the truck in gear and signalling back into traffic. 

I had to move past this or else I’d have to get out of this truck right now and take a taxi home, leaving her in the literal and figurative dust for good. But I didn’t want that. Not really. Yes - she’d been out of line talking to Finnick about me but it’s not like she’d gone and made it public to everyone we worked with. That had to count for something, didn’t it? God, was I just being naive? 

No. I was being fair and so what if maybe that was tied in to me actually liking this woman? I couldn’t get hung up on one slight if I was ever going to move forward with my life - I had to take these punches on the chin and get on with it. 

“You haven’t said anything in ten minutes. Do you want me to just take you back?” She asks after a while, her voice tight as she keeps her eyes on the road. I glance over and see the way she holds her shoulders back, how her body is belying the nonchalance she’s trying to convey. 

“No. Take me where you were planning on taking me before,” I pause, clenching my hands in my lap before swallowing my hesitation. “What did Finnick say, about me?” 

“Oh, well, nothing really about you. He made us talk in hypotheticals for the whole time because he really didn’t want to speak for you. But he did tell me about how hard you worked to get back to work, and how hard you fought to get this posting.” 

“Did he tell you what happened?” I worry aloud after a moment of letting that sink in. Katniss shakes her head and furrows her brow. 

“No - he wouldn’t talk about anything but the positive stuff to get where you are now. He really only opened the door for me to do my own research after. And Peeta - I tried. I did so much reading about how it all works, and people’s different experiences. I’d never really thought of it before and it kind of all caught me off guard. I hadn’t realized just how much work goes into the design and the rehab and all of it. I guess that sounds lame, in retrospect, but I wanted to try to understand what you might have gone through so that I could be better prepared for when you finally talked to me about it. I really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I appreciate that,” I answer evenly and sigh, looking out the window again as we continue on down the road. 

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to rehash the whole situation with someone new. It was always exhausting, filled with ups and downs that took the energy out of me. I wanted today to be something separate from that - a good memory to take back with me when I went home. But that would only happen if I made it happen. If I focused on the good things building between Katniss and I. 

And so I focused on that, rather than the negative thoughts that seemed to spur inside of me as the silence dragged on. 

“We’re almost there,” Katniss says eventually, breaking the quiet and slowing down to match the posted speed limit. We drive for another few minutes before she’s pulling into a lot surrounded by rough grass, sand scattered along the edges of the tarmac. “It’s a historical landmark. It’s not a beach, but it is close to one. I thought you’d find it interesting to visit a World War II remnant with tunnels down under. It’s a bit of a walk but do you want to get out and explore?” 

I look around me quickly and then back to her, the concern on her face clear. She’s picked something I hadn’t imagined was possible, a site that not only intrigued me but didn’t make me feel like I was going to be at a disadvantage. Somehow her research had helped and it gave me hope to see her smile peeking out of the corners of her lips. 

“Yeah, I do,” I answer and Katniss grins, climbing out of her seat and hopping onto the pavement as I get out to follow her. 

We track down the pathway for a while, the stretch of land on both sides edging out into the water and causing the sun to beat down on us. By the time we reach the Fort I can feel the heat crowding in, sweat prickling at my brow as we take cover under the shade of an outlook awning. 

“We can head down to the tunnels - it’ll probably be a bit cooler down there,” Katniss offers as she looks towards me from her perch on the stone wall. I nod and brush the sweat from my face, pulling my hat lower over my face to give me some semblance of cover from the heat. 

She’s thankfully right - below ground the temperature dips and I’m able to breathe a sigh of relief as we explore the tunnel system, venturing out to unseen gunneries and outlook points as we go. The stonework is beyond what I’d imagined the country had been doing in the 18th century, the design and strategic outline of the place far beyond what I’d thought possible, or needed, this far overseas. 

By the time we’ve seen most of the grounds I’m already hot, my skin turning pink and my mouth dry as we turn back towards the truck. Inside the cab Katniss is quick to pull the seats forward and grab a bag from the back, thumping it on the bench between us before she climbs in and turns the AC on to full blast. 

“I’m assuming you silly Canadians didn’t come prepared for the heat,” she chides, tossing me a container of sunblock and a bottle of water. I chug the liquid back and then squeeze some of the paste onto my fingers, watching as she sips at her own bottle. I try not to notice the way a bead of sweat drips down her neck but my attempts are pathetic at best. 

“I didn’t. Kind of forgot it wasn’t the middle of winter for a while there, what with being inside all day in a windowless air conditioned room,” I lament in return. Katniss laughs and the sound is sweet, light, and I need to clamp down on my reactions or else this whole day was going to get embarrassing really quickly. 

“Figured as much. Put some of that on and we’ll go get lunch. Then we are going to go to the beach but - “ 

“Katniss - “ 

“No - just go with it. I’ve worked it all out. Give me a chance and if you hate it we can go back into the city. But I promise you’ll love it. You’ll want to paint it when you get home.” 

“How did you - “ 

“Finnick definitely let that slip and you can’t be mad at him for it. He was like a proud papa showing everyone your paintings a few days ago when he came by the station. It was sweet,” she adds, watching as I shake my head and finish applying the sunscreen to my face. Katniss rolls her eyes and leans towards me and I half expect her to drag me down for a kiss but then she pauses, lifting her hand to rub a thumb over the bridge of my nose and down around to my ear. “Missed a spot. All better now,” she quips and pulls back, turning the truck on and putting us in motion before I’ve even caught my breath. 

We get fish and chips from a small take out shop and eat our meals perched on a set of plastic chairs off the edge of the sidewalk. Katniss pushes me to explain what got me into painting while she proceeds to steal half of the fries she’d declared unnecessary when we were at the window ordering. I don’t mind, surprisingly, and simply focus on the story of my mother’s obsession with cake decorating and how it had pushed me into colour studies and art class to improve my skills. 

“I should have you come out and teach Prim before you leave. She loves everything pretty and she’s always so disappointed in the cakes we have for our birthdays because they’re not fancy enough for her.” 

“Maybe I should be teaching you then, since you seem to want her to have a fancy cake,” I offer, my attention turned to the last bite of fish. 

“That would be awesome - how about this weekend?” I snap my head up at that, confusion on my face. “No? I thought - “ 

“No. I mean, yes. I didn’t think you actually wanted to - “

“Well, I’m not good at making things pretty but I can try. For Prim I’d try, at least. And if you’re teaching me it can’t be half-bad, right?” She answers quickly, her hands busily cleaning up her spot. 

“How do you know I’m not some secret hardass when it comes to this sort of stuff?” I counter playfully as she gets to her feet. Her eyes lock on mine and she cocks her head, watching as I squirm under her attention. 

“‘Cause I don’t think you could be mean about anything, Peeta Mellark,” she answers, licking her lips. I’m tempted - so tempted - to reach up and pull her down to me but I keep my hands in check and to myself as she leans forward and grabs my trash before walking quickly towards the bin. “I’m just going to run to the washroom. Be right back.” 

When she returns a few moments later her hair is down from it’s usual braid, the loose ends flying about her face as she tries to capture them to pull them back. She looks stunning, her dark hair twisting across her skin and bringing out the grey of her eyes as she smiles back at me. I feel my chest tighten as she pauses across the street, her fingers busy at the crown of her head as a car passes between us. 

“My hair tie broke and I can’t get it all into a knot off my neck,” she groans, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she looks at me. Her expression hints at annoyance and I try to empathize despite how the sight of her makes me feel, my hands itching to touch her. 

“Want me to try?” I offer, my voice cracking as she lifts her brows. God, she was a sight. 

“Is this another skill of yours?” She answers, turning away from me and pushing her hair back as I get to my feet. Hesitant, I lift my hands to her shoulders and start by drawing the loose strands towards her back, grabbing them in one hand. So what if I take my time collecting every last piece? Maybe I was just being thorough. I definitely wasn’t just revelling in the softness of the skin of her neck. And like it mattered - she wasn’t complaining - in fact she only leaned back as my fingers grazed her collar, her breath skittering out of her at the touch. 

Once I’ve got every piece and I can no longer pretend my exploration was anything but, I pull my hat off my head and slip her hair through the hole, pushing the fabric onto her head with gusto. 

“Fixed it!” I say with a grin, watching as she rolls her eyes and shifts the hat up her brow. 

“Don’t blame me when you get a sunburn on your face!” Katniss scolds as she tries to hide the smile, turning around to face me. 

“I won’t. Besides, you look good in it. Better than me at least,” I add quickly. She nods her head back towards the truck and turns, leading us back to the vehicle. We only move a few feet before she reaches down and grabs my hand with her own, her eyes glancing up towards me. I simply squeeze my hand in return, comfortable with the intimacy of the movement. 

We drive towards the beach with our fingers linked and I pray for my palms not to sweat as we get closer, my anxiety getting the best of me as we move across the small strip of land. 

I hadn’t been to a beach since before my accident - all I’d heard about them from the people in rehab, from my physiotherapists, was to steer clear. The sand and the water were problematic for my type of prosthetic, with its exposed joints and fragile components, and I definitely didn’t want to get the friction rash that was inevitable if the sand got into my sleeve and rubbed against my stump. I’d be out for a few days if that happened and I couldn’t just call in sick, not here, and if it did get infected - which had unfortunately happened before - I’d likely be on the first flight home. I needed to be smart about this. I needed to know my limits and not push them just trying to impress Katniss. 

We pull into a lot off the side of a dead end road, the thick brush and blowing sand kicking up towards us giving way to a sweet salt breeze that hits my face when I step out of the truck. Katniss smiles up at me, waving me forward with a backpack on her shoulders, as we head off towards one of the pathways that lead to the left. It’s quiet in the afternoon heat, the paths empty but for a few people jogging or walking their dogs. 

“I’m assuming we’re not actually going swimming,” I ask as we cut down another path, the wirey bushes reaching out to us the further we go. 

“No. Not today. I figured you probably wouldn’t want to for a variety of reasons. But we can figure it out later if you do! There’s tonnes of beaches around here that we could check out,” she answers quickly, glancing up at me to gauge my reaction. I keep a smile plastered on my face, despite the hesitation the thought spurs in me. 

“Yeah, maybe,” I say softly and we turn down another path. I feel the ocean before I see it, the damp air spiralling up towards me as we reach the edge of an outcropping of rock and the sandy path slips down over the edge. 

I stand frozen for a moment as the sea-air whips my face and the waves crash into the rocks below. We haven’t come to an actual beach, per se, at least not one with hordes of people and sand that your feet sink into with every step. Instead we’ve come to a cliffside dotted with rocks jutting out into the water, their plateaus sinking and rising with each wave that flashes over them. 

“It’s beautiful,” I say about the roar of the wind and the water, my gaze locked ahead as I try to take all of the vivid colours and sights in. 

“You’re not mad I brought you?” She questions carefully, glancing up towards me before looking back out towards the stretch of blue. I reach for her hand and tighten my fingers around hers, my lips curling up into a smile. 

“I should have trusted you,” I say instead, my heart thumping in my chest as she looks up at me. 

“I’m just glad you took the risk on me. Now, come on, I wanna get closer.” She tugs my hand and leads us further through the underbrush and down onto the rocks, sneaking us across the zig-zagging pathway that cuts down the edge of the hill. We follow a twisting line out to an edge just above the water before Katniss stops and drops her bag on the ground. 

Digging around inside, she pulls loose first a blanket and then a couple cans still sweating from the cooler pack she’s stuffed them in. Without warning she collapses down onto the fabric and yanks at my hand, urging me to follow her. I move a little more slowly, taking my time to get down as she reaches out the pack of ice to me. 

“You look hot. Put this on your neck for a bit,” she orders, still digging through her bag. When she makes a small ‘a-ha!’ as I’m settling my limbs and holding the cool liquid to my neck, I glance over and see her pulling another hat out of the depths, the bright pink cotton bucket hat standing out against the dark bag. She’s up on her knees without warning, her hands tugging the fabric onto my skull before I can even realize what she’s doing. 

“No, no, no. I’m fine without it,” I grumble, reaching up to pull the cap away. 

“No you’re not! You’re gonna be a lobster before I even get you back if you don’t put something on. Trust me, the burn can be worse than the embarrassment. Besides, who is going to judge you? Eingana? She doesn’t care about silly boys in ugly hats.” 

“Eingana?” I mumble as she plops back down onto her butt, her gaze appraising as I wilt under my new floral hat. 

“Goddess. Big on water and animals. Now, put on a smile and make me something pretty,” she adds and grabs a notebook and a box of drawing tools out of her bag before dumping them on my lap. 

For a moment I just sit there, watching her as she leans back on her hands and watches me watching her. Her lips twist up in a cocksure grin, challenging me to complain about the activities on this free day she has so considerately put together. Even if I weren’t feeling flushed at the idea of her bossy-demands, the spasm of want piquing in my gut, I would have probably given in just because of the sheer opportunity that was laid before me. 

We’d ventured to a gorgeous spot, on a flawless day, and the waves and the cliffs and the dusting of vegetation created an almost surreal landscape that I just itched to recreate. I hadn’t had much opportunity to work on something creative since I arrived and now here it was, thrust upon me like an offer I couldn’t refuse. Without even talking to me about it, Katniss had somehow planned a perfect afternoon for us - sans the hat, of course - and had put me at ease in a place I’d feared for a long while now. 

The next two hours pass in a dizzying blur of heat and drinks and colour, my hands busy stretching out our surroundings so that when Katniss reclines down to stretch in the sun I can flip the page quickly and focus on the portrait I’m actually working on. She only once sends me a suspicious glance when she catches me looking at her, her eyes flickering open as she tips her hat up. 

“Almost done with my masterpiece?” She asks with a husky voice, rolling over onto her stomach to push herself up into a back stretch. Her skin glistens in the sunlight, the thin layer of sweat capturing bits of sand and loose hair as it distracts me from any rational thought. “Peetaaa…” She adds, waving her hand in my face as she returns to a sitting position across from me. 

I swallow the lump in my throat and tuck my chin, hiding my face under the brim of my cap as I close the notebook and hand it back to her. 

“I guess I’m done for today. You ready to head back into the city? Maybe get dinner or something?” I blurt, chastizing myself for being the smoothest person on the planet. 

“The drawing is that bad, huh?” She responds, flipping through the pages as I start shoving items back into her bag. When I see that she’s almost at her portrait, I grab the book and tuck it into the bottom before getting to my feet as quickly as I can. 

“No, it’s good, but I don’t want you to see it just yet. I want to work on it a bit more on the drive back,” I lie, tugging the blanket as she joins me standing. 

Back in the car, I stuff our hats into the bag as I dig the notebook and pencils out and pretend to work on the image from the beach. Katniss, for all her jokes and quick conversation, barely notices when my glances shift from cursory to progressively longer staring, my fingers determined to get her jawline just right. 

We pull into the hotel parking lot and I tug the page free of its bindings, folding it quickly in my lap and stuffing it in my pocket as Katniss pulls her things together. I return the notebook and utensils to her bag and climb out, following her into the lobby where the air conditioning buffets us like a solid wall. 

“I wanna run upstairs and just do a sand check - do you mind getting a table by yourself for a couple minutes?” I ask as she twists off towards the restaurant. She turns back to face me with a lifted brow, her head cocked to the side slightly. 

“Oh. Do you - would you hate if I came with you instead?” She counters evenly and though she says it with a straight face, her cheeks darken slightly with a flush that belies her nerves at the question. 

“I mean, if you want. It’s just going to be me hobbling around the room for a couple minutes as I get changed.” 

“I do. Want to come, that is,” she adds messily and all I can do is nod, heading towards the bank of elevators and punching the button as she comes to stand beside me. 

Inside my room, I motion towards the small sitting area before I grab a new set of pants from my bag and look wearily around the room. Katniss hovers near the windows, her arms crossed over her chest as she looks back at me with an uncertain look on her face. Where normally I’d shuck my clothes and make quick work of changing, now all I can think about is how awkward this is, how there was no chair in the bathroom to sit on apart from the toilet or the edge of the tub and I’d have to move my whole maintenance kit in there which would point out the fact that I clearly needed to do more than shake sand out of my clothes. 

“You know, I’m not weirded out if you need to change in here,” she blurts abruptly, her eyes watchful as I rub the back of my neck. “Or if you are really uncomfortable I can leave - I mean, I shouldn’t have - I’ll just go wait - “ 

“Katniss,” I sigh, grabbing her arm as she’s about to stalk past me. She pulls up short and covers her face with her hands, her fingers pressing into her eyes for a moment before she turns back to face me. “It’s fine. I just needed to get my head on straight. Blame it on the sun-drunk brain I have right now.” 

She snorts at that, reaching for her hair and tugging it over her shoulder for her hands to nervously twist in it as I rest my hands at my hips. It feels weird, having an audience, as I pull at my the fastenings of my pants. Her cheeks heat again and she steps by me, leaning back against the dresser as I drop the fabric to the floor. I settle myself on the edge of the bed in my boxer briefs, my hands making quick work of releasing the prosthetic and tugging it loose. I don’t dare look up to see the hint of disgust that must be on her face as I roll the sleeve down and set it beside me on the mattress. 

Reaching for the cloth I keep at my bedside, I reach down and rub the smooth fabric over my reddened stump. Apparently some sand had managed to slip in and I’d caught the few bits before the rubbing did any real damage, my body relaxing slightly at the realization. 

“Can I help?” Katniss asks from above me, somehow having inched closer as I focused on my leg. I glance up at her and she smiles gently, reaching out a hand for the cloth. I hand it to her like it’s a fragile thing I’m terrified of breaking, my brain slowly catching up with the thought that maybe it was so fragile because it was equivalent to handing over my hard-earned trust. 

She takes the cloth from my grip and settles down onto her knees before me, her head bent as she reaches forward until her fingers graze my skin. I nearly hiss at the contact, my whole body going tight as I force my mind to go blank and my loins to stay under control. When her nails scrape across the hair on my thigh I can’t help the slip of sound that escapes me, her eyes darting up to meet mine as she freezes in place. 

“It’s fine, just sensitive there,” I say around grit teeth, my heart racing in my chest. If she didn’t finish with her curiosity soon I was definitely going to fail at hiding how turned on I was, my body roaring back to life after so long without anyone’s hands on the skin under my clothes. 

“Do you have to wash it every time you take it off? Or like, put anything on it?” She questions, her breath coating my skin and making my hands clench in the sheets. 

“No - I do that at night before bed so it doesn’t add moisture while I’m wearing it. Right now I just want to make sure I wipe out any residual sand from my skin or the sleeve before I put it back on.” 

“Got it. If you want to do the sleeve, I’ll finish up down here and make sure it’s spick and span,” she laughs, using the cloth like a polishing rag as she lightens the mood. I say a small prayer of thanks and grab another cloth from the table, working it through the sleeve and turning it inside and out as I examine it. 

I’m startled out of my search for the demonic grains of torture when I feel Katniss’ lips on my skin, her nose and forehead pressing against the top of my thigh for the briefest of moments before she pulls back and looks up at me with a smile on her face. 

“All done down here,” she says evenly, her hands still resting on my exposed skin. Does she even know what she’s doing to me right now? She must because looking down there’s no way I’m hiding it anymore. 

“Great. That’s great,” I stumble, voice tight. Katniss squeezes my thighs and gets back to her feet, standing between my legs as her hands reach to cup my chin. 

“I can’t tell if your red cheeks are from the sunburn or something else,” she murmurs, eyes locked on mine. I want to swim in her grey depths, get lost in the thoughts that spin behind her gaze. “Do you need help with this?” Her words turn to a gravely husk, her hand dropping down to my lap. 

I nearly burst right then and there, my whole body tight as her knuckles graze my hardened length before grabbing the sleeve from my grip. She smiles wickedly down at me and holds the material in her hands. 

“I can manage,” I practically gasp, taking it back from her and swallowing thickly. My hands fumble as I do a final swipe of everything and settle the cup over my stump. I roll the slip back up my thigh, all the while trying to calm my racing heart and swallow back enough air to keep from passing out. When my prosthetic is safely back on my leg I burst to my feet, nearly crashing into her as I unsteadily bounce back and forth. 

“Are you trying to dance with me?” She chuckles, the flush running up from her neck to her cheeks now. 

“Nope. I’m all business - just getting it to settle and then we can go eat,” I answer brightly, almost too brightly as my voice cracks. What was I even doing right now?

“Ah, well, a girl can dream. Thank you for letting me get up close and personal. I know that probably took a lot for you to trust me like that,” she blurts as I bend to grab my new pants from where I’d dropped them. 

“Oh - yeah, well, I guess we’re both professionals and it’s not like you saw me naked or any - “ 

“That was an option?” She interjects with a lifted brow. God, how I wanted to kiss her. 

“I didn’t realize that was the meal you planned on,” I reply, deadpan. She shakes her head and I move to step around her, reaching for my bag to grab a new shirt when she yanks on my arm. I’m twisted back towards her as she steps forward, rising on her toes to reach her lips to mine. 

Katniss tastes like salt and sweat and fruity chapstick, the day's events having left their mark on her as she eases closer. I let my hands settle on her chin, holding her gently to me as I bend to meet her. When my tongue darts against her lips in exploration she let’s a small squeak escape, her fingers pressing bruises into my arm at the move. Before I know what’s happening she’s opening her mouth and all the rules are off, our kiss deepening faster than the wildfires we chase all day. 

We end up back on my bed, my body sprawled haphazardly across the comforter as she kneels above me. Her hands twist and tighten in my hair, her hot breaths leaving gooseflesh across my neck as she tries to catch her breath. 

“Mm, as much as I,” I gasp, pausing as she returns her mouth to mine. “Love this. I was still really looking forward to dinner,” I mumble into her skin with a smile. Her lips continue their trail across my jaw, her nose brushing against my cheek until she nips at my ear. 

“Me too,” she returns gruffly, stilling her ministrations for a brief second before sighing into my collar. Her body settles down against me and I nearly forget what I was even trying to say, my hips half-ready to grind up against her if she’d let me. “Are you sure you want it  _ now _ ?” She attempts, looking up to catch my gaze. My stomach answers for me, the rumble of it sounding out and making her groan in defeat. “Alright. Alright. We’ll save this for another time like good humans.” 

I almost laugh at the comical way she flops onto her back, as though she was the one with pants nearly too tight to walk in. She stares up at my ceiling as I try to reclaim my breath, my heart beating so quickly I feel lightheaded with it. When she glances over and finds me watching she only smiles that half-smile, her eyes searching. 

“Another time? Or later?” I offer to her growing smile.

“Definitely later, then,” she responds quickly and I feel like I’m weightless, my body moving quickly to cover hers as I return to kissing her senseless. We don’t get far before her stomach warbles, her own groan escaping as I eventually pull back. “Food. Then more of this.” 

“Yes, sir,” I joke and finally pull back, getting to my feet and helping her back to standing as we straighten our clothes. When we do eventually make it to the door of my room again, bodies wrapped around each other, I can’t help the small kick I feel in my chest, the flurry of hope that blossoms within me at the thought of  _ later _ , of  _ Katniss _ , and of the way it felt to have her smile up at me at the elevators, her own excitement clear on her face. 

Later couldn’t come soon enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write by a mile. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!


	5. Chapter 5

We find a place near the windows that looks out over the pool, tucked back in the corner and hidden away from any friends or colleagues who would stumble by the entrance to the hotel and see us. It had been Katniss’ idea to hide out back here, her lips turned up in a hesitant smile as she asked the waitress and I reached down to link her fingers with mine. 

“Do you know what you want?” I ask after a few minutes of looking over the menu, setting the paper down and lifting the water to my lips. 

“I’m leaning towards the seafood pizza, you?” She returns, glancing up from her seat. 

“Probably a meat pie - “ 

“Have you tried kangaroo yet?” Katniss interjects, her eyes widening as she watches me recoil at the idea. 

“No - aren’t they protected or something?” She shakes her head and looks back at the menu, skimming it with her finger until her grin grows wider. 

“We’re going to get some as an app.” 

“Wait - you guys can eat your national animal? If we so much as look at a Canadian goose with intent to eat it I’m sure we’d be fined,” I laugh, the memory of those angry geese flooding back to me. I hated those damn birds - how they pooped everywhere and had no sense of fear when it came to humans. It wasn’t right. 

“They’re a pest in some places so yeah, we can eat them. Still get your meat pie though because those are delicious here,” she adds and waves down the server. 

Our drinks arrive and we cheers to a good day, the beer going down easier than I expected as we settle into easy conversation. The second round comes with the food and Katniss grins wickedly as the plate of kangaroo skewers is placed between us. 

“It’s good, try it,” she urges, grabbing one for herself and staring at me until I take my own. 

I pick the vegetables loose and consume them first, ignoring Katniss’ shake of her head as she pops a piece of the meat into her mouth. When all that’s left is the wild meat, I pick up the first one and rally myself to chew it. The taste spills out onto my tongue, all spices and savoury juice as I take one bite, then two. It grows on me almost instantly and soon my plate is empty, my hands lifted in defense as I look towards her. 

“You were right, I’ll admit it,” I say once I’ve swallowed the last bite. Katniss laughs and reaches for her drink, taking a sip. 

“I know, I usually am,” she answers and the mood is set for the rest of dinner. 

We talk, we eat, we drink, and when dessert is offered Katniss orders us something to share, asking for it to be put in a take-out container. I lift my brow as she requests it, her shoulders shrugging slightly as she glances back at me. 

“What?” She questions, sitting back with her drink. 

“Take away?” I offer and her lips turn up as she swallows back the last of her drink and sits forward to look at me dead on. 

“It’s later, isn’t it?” My insides swoop and my skin burns hot under my clothes, the flush creeping up my chest like a fire. 

I pay the bill as our dessert comes in it’s box, two disposable forks tucked in a roll of napkins that Katniss holds in her hands as she gets to her feet. Leading us back to the elevators, I rest my hand on her lower back and try not to tighten my grip in the tail of her shirt, the desire to slip my fingers along her skin almost overwhelming me. The doors start to close and we almost make it, the hand shoving through the gap making the metal slide back open as two bodies stand on the outside. 

“Marvel, Clove,” I greet as their wicked grins size up Katniss standing at my side. Her body tenses under my touch, her shoulders rolling back as though lifting herself for a challenge. 

“Mellark. Day off?” Clove asks, brushing the hair back from her face as she stands clad in her uniform. Marvel’s eye glints as he looks us over, his gaze sinking to my hand at Katniss’ back before he lifts a brow towards me. 

“What a great way to spend the day with the locals,” Marvel says, his voice slick and grimy. I drop my hand from its place and inch away, nervous that I was tarnishing Katniss’ reputation by showing any affection in front of the people she had to work with on the front-lines. 

“It is. It’s unfortunate you won’t get to try it,” Katniss snaps in return, her body shifting closer until she’s pressed against me, effectively closing the distance between us. Her glance towards me is confident, challenging, and I follow her lead and lift my arm around her shoulders. If she was okay with it, I wasn’t going to force space between us. 

“Funny you should ask - we were just going to blow off some steam together. Would you like to join us? Hit two birds with one stone, if you will,” Marvel offers and reaches his hand to run a finger down her arm. Katniss shakes it off and I can practically feel the tension fill the space, her body coiled and ready to strike. 

“Leave it alone,” I cut in, running my palm over where he'd just run a finger down her arm, determined to brush off the remnant of his touch. 

“What? Not interested in a full man?” Clove hisses and this time it’s Katniss who moves to grab my hand, holding me in place from stepping forward and turning this conversation into a fight. Thankfully, the elevator beeps and the doors slide open to my floor as we push past them into the hallway. 

The sound of laughter follows us down the hallway back to my room and I try not to let it get to me, my movements harsher than they need to be as I swipe my key to open the lock and push open the door. It bangs against the stopper and I growl, walking towards the window and giving myself a minute to cool off as I rub my face with my hands. 

“You’re a better human than they’ll ever be,” Katniss says from behind me, her voice soft. It draws me back to face her, my hands on my hips as I try to force myself back to the place I was before we got in the elevator. I take a breath, then another, watching as she sets the dessert down on the dresser and steps closer to me. “Don’t let them ruin today, Peeta.” 

“I don’t know why it still feels like salt in the wound. It’s been two years,” I grumble, sighing as she lets her fingers tangle in the front of my shirt. She gives it a tug and I look down at her, holding her gaze. 

“Let me make it up to you?” she whispers, her voice raw and her expression open. It kills me inside, just a little bit, and eases the stress from my frame. I feel the need to touch her, explore her, and as her words settle in my chest I can’t help the way my fingers lift to run through her hair, grazing down the side of her cheek to feel her pulse in her neck. 

“Yeah. If you want,” I manage and she smiles, stepping closer until her heat presses against my skin. In the next second she’s lifting her arms to wrap around my neck, pulling me down so she can capture my lips with her own. 

I follow after her, hands settling against her lower back as she slowly walks us back towards the bed. She sinks down onto it and refuses to let go, bending me to her will as her tongue slips into my mouth and her hands tug against my belt to bring me closer. Her thighs wrap tight around my hips and it’s almost like she’s clinging to me, a koala holding tight to a tree, as she sighs against me. 

“Come here,” she whispers as her nails scrape lightly up my back, drawing the fabric of my shirt with them. I help pull it off as she scoots up the bed, my knee coming to rest at the side of her hip as she returns her lips to mine. The position is awkward, straining, and I groan as she takes one of my hands and shoves it under her shirt, impatient for my touch. The shirt doesn’t last long and soon our heaving breaths are filling the space as the rest of our clothes are pushed out of the way and discarded. 

We settle onto the bed wrapped around each other, her fingers in my hair and my hands holding tightly to her side as she moans into my mouth. Her hips roll towards me, seeking more contact, and I have to force myself not to rut desperately against her as she guides me onto my back. 

“How does this work?” She asks as she grazes up my neck, her breath hot. I can’t stop my hands drifting down her thighs, holding her over me as she rocks against my lap. 

“What?” I grunt as she nips in response to my silence. The bite runs straight to my groin, the bolt of heat making me strain against my boxers as she slides against me. I can feel her heat and it calls to me, drives me near to insanity as she sits up in her bra and looks down at me. 

“Do you want it on or off? Should I be on top or bottom? What do you normally do?” She asks in a blurry mess of words, the questions making my brain tangle up. What did I want? I had no idea. I hadn’t been with anyone since the accident. How was I supposed to know what I preferred? 

“On, I guess? Or is that weird?” I stick with the one question I can figure the answer to, my brain fairly confident that my body would manage regardless of whether she or I were on top. At this point, I was determined to figure it out even if it was an embarrassing messy attempt. 

“No - whatever you normally do is fine - “ 

“I don’t have a normal - this is the first time since - “ 

“Oh,” she pauses at that, her flush creeping up her neck and causing her cheeks to pink from either arousal or embarrassment I wasn’t sure. “I would have thought - “ 

“No. I mean, I’ve wanted to but it just didn’t work out,” I answer lamely and try to swallow back the press of nerves that claw up my throat.  _ Please don’t back out. Please don’t call it off.  _

“Alright. That’s okay. We’ll figure it out. I’m okay if you want to take it off though - is it going to be in your way?” I snort and look up at her, a hesitant smile on my face. 

“I’ve no fucking idea,” I reply and she grins sheepishly, her shoulders shrugging. “If you don’t care, I can take it off.” 

“I don’t. But Peeta - do what  _ you _ want, okay? You don’t need to impress me, I’m already half-naked in your bed,” she adds and I shake my head reaching up for her and tugging her down to me. She comes willingly, sliding down until our chests are pressed together and her bra rubs against my skin. 

I make quick work of unhooking the clasp and pulling it from her, my hands lifting up to graze over her breasts. She moans into my touch, arching into me as her hips roll against my lap. The feel of her makes my brain short out and I’m acting purely on instinct, my body fueled by hazy lust as we shift and kiss and touch each other until we’re half mad with it. 

“I want you,” she murmurs as her mouth trails across my collar, her body curled tightly above me. I try to draw her towards me again but she pulls back, drifting further down my body until her lips have reached the waistband of my boxers. “Say this is okay,” she commands as her fingers slip to pull the elastic. 

“More than okay,” I stutter and another second passes before I’m bare, my clothing abandoned and her own underwear shucked somewhere across the room. Standing at the edge of the bed, she runs her hands up my thighs, her nails grazing the hair before they move and settle over my prosthetic. 

“Still okay?” She asks, her fingers light against the sleeve. I nod and try not to panic as she follows the movements from earlier, pressing the release and tugging at the leg to remove it. Her touch returns to my other leg, soothing small circles into the skin for a moment before she removes the sleeve and looks down at my stump. She doesn’t hesitate to press a kiss to the exposed skin, her nose trailing up the inside of my thigh until she reaches the crux of my legs. 

Her breath on my cock almost makes me come right then, the heat and dampness of it making me twitch in response. I catch her smile as she runs a hand over the skin, her palm gently swirling over the tip and tracing the bead of precum down my length. I want to thrust into her grip, to work myself to the peak, but I force myself to stay still as she continues her exploration. 

“I got tested a few months ago and I was clear with no partners in the meantime. How clean are you?” She questions as her lips ghost over my hip, her hand slowly working me. 

“I got tested about a year ago and haven’t been with anyone since, well, since before that,” I answer, working to control my body from just blowing my load right then and there. 

“So I can take you in my mouth then?” She counters and my eyes nearly roll back in my skull, my fist tightening against the sheets. 

“Yeah. Yeah you can do that, if you want,” I grunt and if I blacked out I’m sure I’d be more conscious than I am when her lips wrap around my tip. 

She takes the length of me into her mouth with the same exquisite slow descent that she’s approached the last two blinding minutes of my life. Her hands work my shaft as her tongue swirls around the head, her head bobbing ever so often to bring moisture to her grip. She hums and I groan and the sound of it almost makes me fall apart before she’s pulling back and standing up at the edge of the bed. 

“I’m so wet for you, Peeta,” she whispers urgently, crawling up beside me to return her lips to mine. I reach for the crux of her thighs and run my fingers through her folds, moaning as her wetness slips along my knuckles and she hisses against me. Her hips roll into my touch and I reach for her, pulling her down until I can roll over top of her and slide my fingers inside. I want to taste her - need to taste her - but also I need a second to breathe before I let myself sink into her heat. 

“Up, move up the bed,” I manage to garble out, settling myself between her legs as she pushes herself back up the mattress. When she gets to where I want her I throw a hand over her hips, holding her in place as I kiss the inside of her thigh. It makes her shift under my grip, her small sounds turning pleading as her fingers tangle in my hair. 

I let my lips sink to her folds as my tongue darts out against her clit. She practically lifts from the mattress, one hand coming up to press between her teeth to stop her from crying out. I take it as a good sign and turn my attention to laving at her slit, tasting her and licking into her as she moans above me. The sound is almost too much, my hips desperately pressing into the bed as I try to give myself any friction as I work my mouth against her. 

“Peeta,” she keens after I run and palm over her breast, her hand clenching in my hair. I can feel her slowly unravelling and it spurs me onward, my hand sliding down her chest until it settles between her legs. One finger teases her entrance and when she manages to push herself down onto it I don’t hold back anymore, easing a second one into her and curling them up and forward. The pressure makes her jerk against me and I smile as my lips wrap around her nub, the contact bringing her hips off the bed and her thighs tight around my shoulders. 

She cries out as she comes, small aching sounds that match her muscles tightening around my fingers, her whole body vibrating with her release. I kiss her thighs and flick my tongue over her clit once more before crawling up her chest, my mouth trailing along her skin as I go. She grabs at my shoulders as I settle against her, her mouth returning to mine in a lazy kiss. 

“Fuck, you’re good at that,” she whispers as I try to keep from rubbing against her opening. I needed to come, my cock almost painful with the want of it. 

“Thanks,” I manage and draw back, reaching for the bedside table and grabbing at the condoms I’d shoved in there earlier. She takes the packet from my hands and tears one open, her hand sinking down between us and grabbing at my length. Rolling onto my side, I groan as her hand rolls the rubber over me, the touch almost breaking my restraint as she lays back and pulls my head down to hers. 

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” she demands, her lips against mine as she pulls me close. I take a breath and slide forward, easing into her with every second I exhale. It’s overwhelming and immersive and my whole being wants to make it painfully quick but I force myself to steady, determined to get her there again if I can. 

Every inch of me sinks into her warmth, her legs coming up to wrap around my hips as my forehead falls to her shoulder. I try not to come immediately as I bottom out, my heart beating almost painfully in my chest. She feels so good. So fucking amazing. I wish it never had to end. But then she’s rolling her hips up to mine, her hand pressing into the base of my spine as she moans into my ear. The sound is thrilling and I can’t help the shock of my hips snapping into her, the contact making her jerk beneath me. 

“Again,” she breathes and I do as she says, my whole body a slave to her touch, her wants and needs. I take it slow because if I didn’t then surely I would fall apart too soon, my body tight as I grind into her, as my lips find hers in a messy kiss that I drag back to her shoulder. She cradles me against her and when my leg tires she urges me to rest fully on her, hands holding tight to my slick skin. “I’m so close,” she whispers into my ear and it spurs me, my body thrusting more fully into her to bring her to the edge once more. 

I’m the first one to fall over, the prickle of heat at my spine flashing through my body as I snap my hips into her in quick succession. She cries out as my body empties into the condom, her hips rolling up and using me as a post to quickly work herself against. I drop a hand between her legs when my brain has come back to itself, my fingers circling her clit as she rides my slowly softening length. When she comes again I feel her muscles spasm over me, around me, and if I could come again I’m sure I would be, the feeling nearly doing me in. 

She comes down from her orgasm with a shuddering sigh, her hands plastered against my skin and her lips hidden in my hair. I feel my body drift as I slip out of her, my hand reaching down to pull the condom off before I tie it in a knot and throw it into the trash. Grabbing my shoulder, Katniss pulls me up to her side and curls against me, her sweat-slicked frame cooling in the burst of air from the AC. 

“I don’t know why we waited so long to do that,” she murmurs into my ribs, nuzzling closer and throwing her thigh over my hips. 

“I don’t know either, but I’m glad we did. Thank - “ 

“Don’t you dare thank me Peeta Mellark. You just made me come twice. You owe me nothing,” she growls and to make certain of it, she lifts her lips and silences my next words with her mouth as I lift a hand to tangle in her hair. I let her because what can I say? It was so good and I don’t deserve her and when the time came to finally go home I knew I was going to be an absolute mess. 

But at least we had now and that was what I was going to focus on. Now, and the rest of the night. With dessert. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this just a chapter with sex? Yes. Am I ashamed? No.


	6. Chapter 6

I do end up with a sunburn, though it seems to be almost a type of initiation with the locals as they all commend me on getting out of the Ops Centre and seeing the city. Thankfully, nobody asks me what I did, or who I went with, and so I go about my day as though spending the night with Katniss hadn’t put me at a level of operating status that could be considered floating on cloud nine. 

It’s Johanna though who picks up on my mood when she drops in for the day’s situation report, her palm clapping against my neck and causing a bitter sting to fizzle out across my skin. 

“Funny, you're the second person I’ve seen with a burn just like this one,” she states, settling into a vacant chair and putting her feet up on my desk. I roll my eyes and look towards her, shoving her feet clear unceremoniously. 

“What can I say, it was a sunny day yesterday. Probably a lot of burns out there,” I answer as I duck my head to look at my charts. 

“Did you two practice these lines all night?” She counters and it’s then I realize this isn’t going to go away no matter how much I try to avoid it. 

“How do you know who I was with?” She shrugs and I lift a brow, unwilling to let her dodge my questions. If we were going to discuss it, then we were going to discuss it, no skirting around. “Come on, I at least deserve to know who the spies are around here.” 

“Well, let’s just say Brainless has a way of confirming things without confirming them, you know? That, and Hawthorne and I are fucking and he wouldn’t shut up about her skipping family dinner to hang out with some mystery guy. It was really a buzzkill.” 

“Ah, then I’m sorry to cockblock you inadvertently. What do you need, Jo?” I ask, attempting to steer the conversation back away from her sex life. 

“Oh, nothing actually. Just wanted to see if I could get you to admit it for a bet I had with Hawthorne. Now that you have, you can return to your regularly scheduled programming - “ 

“What? You’re not - “

“Tally ho Peet! I hope you’re being safe and all. Hawthorne’s got a killer right hook and you’re messing with the one girl he keeps on an impossible pedestal.”

“Great. So good. Thank you for that,” I mumble as she gets to her feet and claps a hand on my shoulder. 

“Don’t worry. She’s also a pretty scrappy fighter, so maybe if there’s something really there she’ll put up a fight for you. I'd put my money on her," she adds, laughter in her voice as she stalks out of the room. I watch her go and then pickup my phone, sending Katniss a quick text to let her know I'd fucked up.

_ Don't worry about it. We still on for cake decorating on Wednesday?  _ \- Katniss, 10:12am

_ You're not mad?  _ \- Peeta, 10:13am

_ Nah. Jo is a sneaky bitch. Besides why should I b ashamed? _ \- Katniss, 10:13am

_ Fair. And yes, still on for Wed. Gotta run to my meeting. Stay alive _ \- Peeta, 10:14am

_ U2 _ \- Katniss, 10:15am

* * *

The next few days suck me back into the exhaustion of the work as fires start and sputter to life at a record pace. My twelve hour days turn to fifteen and when Wednesday evening comes around I'm barely able to stand from my desk as Katniss enters the room and beelines towards me.

"You look rough. Are they letting you sleep at all?" She greets, easing herself onto the edge of my desk. 

"A little. You on the other hand look fairly well rested. Have you cycled out of rotation?" She nods and sends me a half-smile. 

"A couple days out of the station but we're still on call if things get crazy again. Do you think you'll be able to leave anytime soon or should we reschedule?" I shake my head and start gathering my things, looking around for Portia who had been pulled into a room as soon as she arrived.

"No. Portia is here somewhere. Let me hand off with her and then I'll be ready," I answer and get to my feet.

"Alright. I'm gonna go find Haymitch. Text me when you're ready."

It's almost an hour before I'm able to leave and when I apologize to Katniss as I climb into the truck, she only shakes her head and leans in to steal a kiss.

"It's all good," she returns as she draws back, catching my heavy gaze with her own. "What time do you start tomorrow?" Her voice hints at something more and I grin brightly, reaching up to brush a loose wisp of hair out of her face.

"Six. But I picked an easy recipe, so depending how far out of town you - "

"Enough time," she adds and turns to grip the wheel, putting the truck in drive and tearing out of the parking lot. 

We drive with the windows down and music loud, our fingers twisted together as we head out. The density of the city starts to ease as the sun sets out before us, the evening sky a gorgeous tinted orange that reminds me of home.

“We’re almost there,” Katniss says after an hour, glancing nervously towards me. Around us the houses dwindle in size, the yards growing sporadic and scattered as we move deeper into the country. 

The house we finally pull up to is tiny, it's structure solid but the panelling needing a fresh layer of paint and its roof in desperate need of resurfacing. Katniss, for all her usual strength, looks at me with a tense smile that belies her nerves.

"Anything I should know before I walk in there?" I prompt when after a moment she doesn't say anything.

"Don't judge us for how it looks - "

"I would never - "

"It's just been hard after dad died - "

"Katniss, stop. I'm not going to judge you for how your house looks, or what it might have been like for you growing up here. Whatever it was, it put you on the path to where we met and I'm pretty sure that falls in the good category for me, okay?" She snorts and shakes her head, looking out the window before turning back and meeting my gaze.

"Alright. It's fairly simple. Prim is going to talk your ear off and Mom will keep to herself. Don't bring up the fire fighting and we'll all get along just fine," she adds just as I step out of the truck. 

"No talk about anything to do with it, or just your stuff?" I clarify, raising a brow as she comes around to join me.

"Any of it. It’s a snake pit and if you fall in they’ll attack,” she answers quickly and reaches up to press a wayward curl back from my brow. “You’ll be fine. Just please try not to bring it up.” 

“Scout’s honour,” I mumble before stealing a quick kiss and then grabbing her hand to lead her forward towards her own house. 

“Katniss! You didn’t tell me you were  _ bringing _ him!” Prim shouts, jumping up from the couch and scrambling out of the room in a flash of colour and blonde hair. 

“I expected you to at least have pants on!” Katniss calls and laughs, leading me into the kitchen where her mother, blonde and thin as a wisp, sits hovering over a coffee cup that’s probably stopped steaming hours ago. “Mama, this is Peeta,” Katniss urges, crouching down beside the woman. 

The woman looks up at me, vacant eyes flickering to life, before she shifts and looks between her daughter and I. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she murmurs, voice raspy and half-empty. I move to bend to her height beside Katniss, reaching out my hand for a shake. She takes it and softly smiles, her gaze gentle. 

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mrs Everdeen,” I greet in return. Katniss looks between us for another moment before she gets to her feet abruptly, her hand squeezing my shoulder. 

“I’m going to go drag Prim out of her room. You’ll be okay?” I nod and look back at the woman, pulling out a chair across from her and settling into it. 

The next few minutes aren’t as awkward as Katniss’ warnings had led me to believe they would be. Mrs Everdeen keeps a smile on her face and her voice low as she tells me about her girls, her sweet Prim and her tough as nails Katniss. When I prompt her about the best baby story from each, she shakes her head and clasps her hand around mine, squeezing it slightly. 

“I’d rather tell you with them in the room. Much more entertaining,” she chuckles. 

“I’ll hold you to that when the cake is baking,” I reply on a laugh. It feels good to laugh and maybe that’s because I know from conversations with Katniss that laughter wasn’t a big commodity in this household so I’d take what I could get. 

Katniss and Prim soon return and we get right to the task at hand with an urgency I can - and will - cheekily trace back to Katniss’ earlier questions when we head back into town. For now, we focus on the baking and setting up the supplies needed to decorate our cake as Mrs Everdeen watches on from the sidelines. The hours pass quickly as Prim’s excitement for the cake - for me, for Katniss - fills the small space and keeps the mood upbeat. Every so often even Katniss’ mom will break into our jokes, her comments low but often hilarious in their stark contrast to her quiet demeanor. 

When eventually it comes time to apply the frosting, Prim is already flying high on sugar and buzzing around the room, busily following my lead as I talk her through the next steps. 

“For the colouring, the trick is to start out lighter than you want and then slowly darken it. Yes - like that. And for the swirl you put them together and - exactly. Man, why am I even here?” I ask, turning to Katniss as Prim excitedly moves the frosting bags around the cake. Prim sends me a withering look and Katniss sticks out her tongue at her, nudging my arm with her elbow in the process. 

“You know, Peeta, Katniss never brings home boys to meet us. I know she probably didn’t tell you that, but I think she’s trying to hide you coming over under the guise of this cake decorating evening when really she just wanted us to meet you,” Prim says, twisting the bag into a perfect rose tip. 

“I think you’re right, Primrose. Especially since you’ve already been making all those lovely cakes for that Hawthorne boy,” Mrs Everdeen adds, surprising both Katniss and Prim with her comment. The sisters’ cheeks burn as I look between them, a laugh clogging my throat as Katniss elbows me in the ribs. “These girls won’t ever come out and admit to their feelings, just like their father.” 

“Mama,” Prim laments, shaking her head. “We are perfectly capable of discussing our feelings. They just are always done in a way that takes a decoder ring, right Katniss?” 

“Exactly,” Katniss grumbles, avoiding my gaze. I debate lifting a palm to her back, debate drawing her in for a quick kiss, but we hadn’t talked about PDA in front of her family and I didn’t want to push her past her comfort zone too soon. Instead, I turn my attention back to the cake and comment on how Prim has missed a spot, turning our focus back to the task at hand rather than the possibility that maybe Katniss felt more for me than she was ready to let on. 

By the time we’re heading back into the city, the glow from the evening has settled into my bones and I refuse to let go of Katniss’ hand throughout the drive. She doesn’t seem to mind, her fingers tightening around mine each time she breaks away to flick the blinker or make a tight turn. Back in the hotel, she barely keeps her distance as we move through the lobby and up the elevator, her knuckles curled around my belt loop. 

“Tonight was really fun,” I admit as we step into the room, my body turning to toss my things onto the desk. I only get halfway before she’s wrapping herself around me, her heat and her fire colliding into me and I stumble on my feet, bracing myself against the furniture with a grunt. 

“Sorry - did I - “ 

“No,” I interject as she moves to step back, my arms tightening around her. I didn’t want her to pull away, to falter, I wanted her as close to me as physically possible. “Come ‘ere,” I manage and drag her to my chest before guiding her back onto the bed. 

We dissolve into each other after that. Her touch is gentle as it pulls at my clothes and I try to stop myself from tearing at her like some wild thing you’d find in the outback. When eventually we’re both bare I half expect it to be over just as quickly but Katniss stills, her eyes finding mine in the low light. 

“I don’t have a decoder ring,” she says quietly as her thigh presses into mine, her fingers splayed across my chest. “I just don’t really ever talk about things like this. With anyone.” 

“Oh,” I hesitate, swallowing the mess of words that come to mind. None of them seem right and I’m probably furrowing my brow but - “Do I really need one? I thought I was reading you pretty clearly?” 

She laughs, a hearty sound bursting from her chest as she leans forward until her forehead is against my collar, her fist gentle as it bumps against my ribs. I draw back slowly and lift my hand to her chin, forcing her gaze up to mine. 

“You have been reading me perfectly,” she admits, her palm coming up to mirror mine. “And so I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not used to this being easy. I don’t really have much experience with good relationships or men in general outside of the people I’ve been friends with forever or I’m forced to work with. So if I fuck it up, try not to hold it against me?”

“Oh, so we’re in a relationship now?” I chide and she rolls her eyes, sighing and opening her mouth to say something more. I don’t let her, instead ducking down and stealing a kiss before pausing a breath away from her lips. “I won’t hold it against you if you don’t hold it against me, alright?” 

She nods and it’s enough. It’s enough to let her ease me onto my back. It’s enough to let her take the lead, to feel her body envelop mine as we barely pause for breath. When I feel her fall apart around me I can’t help but drag her down so I can feel the release pulse through her, my own following quick after with the sound of her moans in my ear. 

We fall asleep together and when we wake it’s to a bitter ring of her phone, my leg aching and my mind fuzzy with sleep. 

“Hello?” She grumbles as she stands at the side of the bed, her phone having been retrieved from some pocket we’d discarded hours ago. The sound on the other end of the line is frantic and though I’m only half done releasing the clasps on my prosthetic, I pause as she begins to pull her clothes back on. “No - it’s okay. Stop - Prim. Get the go bag I told you to pack and you and Mama drive - Prim! Listen to me!” 

My throat tightens and I re-fasten the clasps on my leg, swinging myself up to standing and grabbing for my own clothes despite the pain that riddles up my side. 

“I need you guys to drive out to Haymitch’s. Alright? Listen to what the alert is saying and take the - yes, not the main road. Just leave the house, okay? Get to Haymitch’s and - “ she pauses, her shirt dropping to the floor as a scream riddles through the phone line. “Prim? Can you hear me? Prim!” 

I reach for her shoulders and turn her around to face me, her eyes wild as she looks from the dropped call to my face and then back again. 

“Grab your keys, I’ll drive,” I order and Katniss stays frozen to her spot, her body beginning to shake. 

“They got an evacuation alert. They got an alert and she didn’t know what to do - I should be - “ 

“Katniss, stop. Get your boots on and we’ll go to the station and find out what’s going on,” I command and I don’t know if it’s the wrong thing to say or if she’s cracking under the stress but she grabs her things and bolts out the door before I even have a chance to pull my pants on. 

By the time I’m dressed enough to make it to the lobby, half my clothes barely pulled on and in disarray, I’m just in time to see her truck peel out of the parking lot. Cursing under my breath, I stalk towards the front desk and ask for the phone. 

“Finn? It’s Peet. I need your help.” 


	7. Chapter 7

The Operations Centre is buzzing with activity by the time our cab drops us off at the door. It’s barely three in the morning but vehicles are haphazardly pulled into parking spots and all the lights are blazing out into the dead of night. 

“You’re sure she was heading out to her house?” Finnick asks again as we head through the lobby and towards the elevator. 

“I mean, she hasn’t answered her phone and it was her sister calling and it sounded like a scream on the other end so I figure…” I try not to figure the worst, though it’s what my mind keeps circling back to. 

“Right. I’ll check in with the evac lead and see if they’ve got them registered anywhere. You check with Portia on the aerials, alright? And if you see Haymitch - “ 

“Send him to you, I know,” I answer and lift my hand to signal I understood my orders. 

The past hour had been chaos. Finnick had thankfully already been awake and on a call with his wife Annie back home but it had still taken him an almost surprisingly long amount of time for him to meet me in the lobby ready to go. At least he’d had the decency to look sheepish, in as close a look to sheepish as I assumed Finnick could get. 

I'd tried not to freak out while waiting for him, determined to keep my messages to Katniss restricted to only what was necessary so as not to distract her from whatever she'd run off to do. My focus had been on figuring out how I could help from a distance because I knew running into the fire - the one thing I'd trained my whole life for - was the one thing I shouldn't do to help.

"Mellark, it's not seven yet, why are you here?" Portia asks as I drop into the chair next to her and boot up the computer.

"Katniss' family was in the evac zone. Do we have any eyes over it?" I reply quickly, opening up all the programs I'd need to monitor the fire as Portia reviewed the maps.

"Yeah, Jo is up there now. Says it's blowing west. Are you able to create the tracker and wind pattern predictions?" 

I nod and we get down to work, pulling together the fire profile and prepping it for review. An hour passes and I try not to worry about the lack of response from Katniss, my nerves on edge more with every passing minute.

"We're rounding up an evac team to help with the fourth quadrant. Anyone interested in field work?" Abernathy calls out, breaking me from my focus on my computer screen. Before I realize what I'm doing, I've gotten to my feet and volunteered myself for the mission.

Twenty minutes later and I'm in a truck heading to the airfield, Finnick's angry voice in my ear.

"You're not cleared for the field, Peet," Finnick shouts over the rumble of the engine.

"I know, but I'm not gearing up, just doing crowd control. It'll be fine. And if I can find Katniss - "

"You know as well as I do that if the wind shifts even just two degrees you're in the line of it. You'll have no choice but to be on the frontline and we both know that's insane! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I'll be fine. I've gotta go, try not to panic," I add and click the 'end' button, turning my attention instead to piling out of the vehicle and proceeding to a waiting chopper. 

The ride through the early dawn is short and when we're dumped on the side of the road in field gear I make my way towards the waiting circle of workers. My eyes stay peeled for Katniss - flitting face to face and dismissing one after the other - before I refocus my attention on the woman giving the orders.

I'm sent to the head of the line to redirect traffic and help move dead vehicles from the road. The work is steady, physically challenging, and I start to feel the pain in my leg as I move from one car to the next, refusing to stop and take a rest like I know I should.

By the time we've processed over a hundred vehicles, the sun is up and my entire being hurts, the raw pain of my stump rubbing against my prosthetic.

"Mellark, what are you doing out here?" Cato shouts, coming up on me and grabbing fiercely at my shoulder. 

"They needed bodies and I volunteered," I answer quickly before turning back to the car we were in the process of rolling to the side of the road. 

"Shouldn't you be with your crazy broad?" He asks, standing by and watching as our unit gets the car out of the line with no help from him. When it's done, I turn to him with a confused look, sure I'm misunderstanding what he's talking about.

"What was that?" 

"That Everdeen chick. She had to get pulled back from the line cause she was trying to drive into a burn out. I figured you would have been called in to get her under control or something." I scowl and rest my hands on my hips, looking around at the passing car and the rest of the crew.

"First of all, she isn't crazy. Second, she doesn't need a keeper, she knows what she's doing. Third, and listen to me closely here, she was trying to get to her family who _ lives _ in that burn out so why don't you develop some fucking empathy for once," I growl and step past him. Part of me is thankful to know she's okay but the other part of me worries that maybe she'd found her way through the line and put herself in danger. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check and find no messages again as Cato steps in front of me again.

"Hey, you don't get to just walk away from me Mellark, you're in my domain out here. I can send you back in with a flick of my finger - "

"Then piss or get off the pot, Cato. Otherwise get the hell out of my way," I bark and move down the line to put him behind me.

"You're gonna pay for talking to me like this," he mutters and turns on his heel, leaving me to exhale the breath I'd been holding.

We press on with the evacuation and soon the fire is close enough to taste, the air ashen and hot with the sun and the smoke crowding into our sector. 

“Mellark, come on, we’re moving to the north. Got another road clogged up to clear.” I nod and follow the members of my temporary unit back to the chopper, stuffing my gear under the seat as we pile in. 

Thirty minutes later and we’re on the brink of it - the heat is almost all encompassing and the smoke hurts to breathe even with my necker pulled up over my mouth. It’s then I see it - the truck that’s abandoned on the edge of the fire line, its door thrown open. Beyond it, the fire ripples and snares its way through the grass on the side of the road, sparking up in hot flickers of light and hissing heat. 

“Katniss!” I shout, taking off for the truck and ignoring the calls from the team behind me. I race far faster than I ever have on this false leg, pushing my lungs and my body until everything is on fire and my skin is flushed with heat and pumping blood. “Katniss - are you out here?” 

No reply comes and I move closer to the truck, pulling the door open to look inside. There’s remnants of her gear strewn throughout the cab, an old flack jacket and a second breather unit tucked behind the seat. When I check the gauge on the canister, I see why she’s left it behind - the read is dry and it’s no use to her now. And even if it was - she wouldn’t have run into a fire without her PPE unless she wasn’t going far. She  _ had  _ to be here. 

“Katniss! Use your whistle if you can hear me!” I begin to shout, grabbing the jacket before pushing past the side of the vehicle and moving further into the smoke. I make it ten steps before the smoke grows so thick that I can barely see around me, my eyes watering and my throat seared. “Katniss! Whistle!” 

Another handful of steps and my body hesitates, the heat so thick and pressing that it feels like I’m suffocating with it. I feel the road below my feet but then the features around me start to fade, the forests that had once lined these roads now thinned and seeping smoke. 

“Katniss!” I call, though it hurts to shout, to breathe. 

“Mellark, get back to your unit.” My radio blares and on it I can hear Abernathy’s voice, angry and frazzled. “We’re sending in another unit. You’re done. Get out of there.” 

“Katniss! Whistle!” I shout and grip my knees, struggling for air as behind me I hear boots. 

“Told you to get off the line,” Cato’s angry voice comes up behind me and I wonder why I didn’t hear him approach, his heavy hand on my shoulder squeezing until it feels like he’s going to crush me. I catch sight of his face with its protective mask and reach for him, desperate to get help to get clear. “Crazy bitch has you out here getting yourself killed - “ 

I hear it then - the blown whistle - three times to the south east, the notes sharp. My blood runs cold despite the heat and I press forward, desperate to find her. 

“Get back before I have to drag you!” Cato growls and I feel a pressure on my arm, yanking me back in the direction that I’ve come. I don’t catch the person’s face but I’m forcefully put into the cab of the truck with the doors closed and the smell of acrid smoke in my lungs. 

I must pass out. It’s the only way I can explain how one second I’m leaning my head against the fabric of the seat and the next I’m slumped down on the bench and the truck is in motion. I glance up with a cough and Gale’s hand comes down forcefully on my shoulder, his eyes wild and smoke covered. 

“Where is she?” I gasp around the ache in my voice, the words raspy and pained. 

“The bed. Thresh is working on her,” he answers and I move to see for myself that she’s alright, that - 

“Prim…” The crack of my voice makes Gale glance towards me, his chin ducking in a fierce nod. 

“He’s got her on oxygen and is treating that burn. Katniss dragged her from their car - it ran out of gas. Her Ma’s in another truck behind us,” he adds and I look back and see the world on fire, the flames consuming everything behind us like a wild beast. 

“Where’s the nearest hospital?” I rasp, reaching for my phone to pull up what I can about the area. 

“Twenty minutes. If we get stuck anywhere though... Her lungs are half shot and - “ 

“We’ll make it,” I cut him off, my voice steady even though my whole body is shaking with the adrenaline and the fear of Prim not surviving. I needed to be back there. I needed to be helping. My aid skills were top of my class and I knew all the protocols - I had to get back there - and so I push open the rear window and begin to crawl through it. 

“Mellark! What the  _ fuck _ ? Get - “ I’m out through the window and tumbling into the truck bed before Gale can get a good hold, though he manages to pull my leg enough to dislodge it from its casing. The pain of the movement riddles through me and I push past it, crawling to Prim’s side. 

The air beats against me as we drive the highway at a tight clip, my hair blowing in my eyes as I look down at the little girl with soot lining her brow. 

“What’re her stats?” I shout even though my voice protests. Thresh fills me in and I’m just about to start clearing the wound of melted fabric when she gasps and begins to seize, her limbs flailing wildly and knocking into Katniss’ sleeping frame. “Shit - give me that blanket,” I order and Thresh pushes it into my hand as he brackets Prim’s body from hitting the side of the truck bed. 

“Prim? Prim!” Katniss’ voice, thick and torn, flies through the air and I see her lurch for her sister before I can stop it, her whole body lunging with the effort. 

“Katniss stop!” I reach for her and bind her arms to her side, my hands stinging as she fights my hold. “She’s having a seizure - let us work on her. Stop! We’ve got this!” I order and push her back until she’s tucked in the corner, her eyes panicked and wild. Thankfully, she listens. 

“Two minutes 14 seconds,” Thresh calls as I move back to Prim’s side, my fingers on her throat to find her pulse. 

“Steady but weak. I’ll take what I can get as long as we get her to the hospital soon.” 

We keep her immobile as much as we can until Gale is whipping us around the emergency entrance loop, the brakes squealing as we come to a stop outside the hospital doors. Thresh piles out of the truck and loops his arms under Prim’s frame, pulling her from the truck bed and racing through the sliding doors. Soon Gale is racing in after him and Katniss is still frozen in the corner, her eyes bloodshot and her knuckles white as they clench around her sister’s jacket. 

“Katniss?” I whisper, turning to face her full on and finding her unblinking, her breaths almost non-existent. 

“Like my father,” she croaks, though I can barely hear it above the sound of the world around us. 

“Let’s get you inside and get you checked out,” I state, reaching for her hand and sliding towards the end of the truck. She follows after me slowly with her fingers linked in mine, her skin dark with soot and grime and sweat and if I weren’t almost passing out from the pain in my stump I’d probably have noticed the way she proceeds to limp through the hospital doors. 

Once we’re inside it’s like all hell has broken loose as Katniss is pulled towards a treatment area by Gale and I’m left hobbling into the waiting room, awkward and in pain but unwilling to take any of the hospital’s resources. I’d be fine. I just needed to clean up and get this leg off for a few hours and then - 

“Sir, why don’t you come with me and get checked out?” A nurse asks, holding a tablet to her chest and nodding her head back to the double doors. 

“I’m fine. But can you get me updates about - “

“It’s protocol here to check out anyone who comes in looking like you. Plus, I know you came in with Hawthorne and he’s a frequent enough flyer that I am quite certain you need a once over as well,” she interjects with a knowing laugh, turning and heading towards the door without room for argument. 

I follow after her and am led down a hallway and into a curtained bed, the woman urging me up onto the mattress as she begins to hook me up to various machines. 

“How’s your breathing? Any burns? Any pain we need to address? I’m Madge, by the way. Haven’t seen you around but I’m betting you’re that guy Katniss is over the moon for - am I right? Say yes,” she continues on asking questions and speaking so quickly that I can barely put two thoughts together to answer her. “Oh shit - yeah, no, of course you won’t confirm. That’s fine but - “ 

“It’s okay,” I answer and she pauses, throwing me a  _ look _ . 

“I want to check your lungs and get your BP and oxygen levels checked. Sounds like you’ve smoked thirty packs in the last hour,” she adds and busies herself pulling everything together as quickly as she can. Before long, I’m sprouting wires and she’s doing a physical assessment that gives away all my secrets. “Let me take a look at this leg. Mind if I cut up the fabric or do you want to change into a gown first?

“Just cut it. It’s a prosthetic under there though, so don’t freak out,” I joke and I don’t miss the confused look that filters across her face before she schools it back into a professional facade. Her hands make quick work of cutting through my pant leg and she exposes the whole appendage, a tsk’ing sound escaping from her throat. 

“This is damaged - you see this dent? Probably why you were walking funny when you came in. Let’s get it off so I can see what’s going on underneath,” she instructs evenly and proceeds to unclasp the attachments with an ease I’d never seen from anyone but myself. 

When my stump is bare and exposed, the sleeve removed and the metal moved to the side, I nearly collapse from the pain as the air causes a stinging burn to move up into my hip. I glance down and see the open wound, the rubbing and the heat having chafed through the scar tissue and down to near bone. 

“What the hell were you doing out there? This leg is going to need stitches, if not surgery!” She scolds and if it weren’t for the adrenaline numbing my limbs I’m sure I’d have something better to say than what comes out of my mouth at that moment. 

“‘Cause I think I might love her,” I state and Madge looks up at me with startled surprise, her eyes wide. She takes it in, let’s it settle, and then forces her features back into place. 

“Well, next time I’d recommend a card. Let me go get the attending to get you taken care of. You’ve got a replacement here or do you need the prosthetist to stop in?” 

“Could I get the prosthetist? This is my favourite one and - “ 

“Sure. You’ll run into a wildfire to save your girlfriend but won’t think in advance about not having a backup. Sounds about right!” 

“Madge, I know,” I lament with half a laugh and a shrug of my shoulders. “Trust me when I say it caught me off guard, alright?” 

“Alright, but you better tell her before you leave or she might just fly all the way up there to beat you with this hunk of junk,” she responds and flicks my damaged prosthetic with a shake of her head. 

“Thanks. And can you let me know how Prim is at some point? She had a seizure on the way in and I know Katniss was worried.” Madge nods and ducks out of the curtain, leaving me behind to stew in my discomfort and worry about Katniss’ sister. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I forgot to post this earlier today. Last chapter will be up soon!


	8. Chapter 8

When the doctor arrives I’m not sure how much time has passed, my head foggy and my body aching. 

“Seems we’ve got a bit of work here,” she greets, stepping into the room and examining my leg. Her gloved fingers pull at my flesh and poke until I find myself gripping the sheets, my teeth clamped tight. The pain is nearly unbearable and I debate asking for something - really anything - but quickly remember how mushy my brain used to be when I took any painkillers the first time around. “I’m going to have someone come in and do stitches. Your oxygen levels are low too, so I’d like to get an x-ray just to see if there’s any real damage.” 

I nod along because what option do I have? I can’t just get up and leave, walk the halls until I find Katniss and Prim. No, I have to sit here and behave if I had any hope of not being on the first plane out of this place. 

“No problem. I am wondering though about the girl we brought in - how’s she doing?” I ask quickly as the doctor readies to leave. 

“The blonde? She’s awake and her vitals look good, considering. The dark haired one is in surgery though - tore up her calf on something so they’re in fixing it.” 

“What?” I nearly leap from my bed, the wires pulling at my frame and tangling me to the devices behind me. “Surgery? But she was fine! She walked in here!” 

“As I said, injury to her calf. They expect a full recovery though. I’ll try to ensure you get updates from your crew,” she adds and then disappears through the curtain, leaving me to worry and for the anxious thoughts to fester. 

I’m not left stewing in my own misery long though before Gale appears at my curtain flap, his eyes widening as he glances down and sees the empty space where my leg should be. 

“I didn’t realize both of you were getting legs removed today - “ Gale starts and my body floods with dread, my eyes snapping open as I sit up. 

“It’s an amputation?” I shout and Gale holds up his hands and shakes his head, stepping through the opening and towards my bed. 

“Woah - no, sorry, shitty joke. It’s just surgery to fix a deep tear in her tendon or something. I was told to come back and give you an update,” he pauses and looks around the space, motioning to the chair where my prosthesis is propped up. I nod and he lifts it and places it gently against the wall, his tall frame sinking into the seat. “Prim is doing fine, or I guess as fine as she can be, considering. Her Ma is in with her and she’s getting a bunch of tests done. They expect she’ll be okay after a few days monitoring.” 

“And Thresh? Nothing on him?” 

“Nope. We came in after you. Cato wanted to let you drop but Rue wouldn’t let him. She got you back in that truck so you should definitely thank her when you get the chance.” I nod and rub my face, sighing as I lean back against the pillows.

“I’m glad you all made it. And that the Everdeens are fine. It could have been a lot worse,” I add and Gale leans forward on his knees, his gaze appraising. 

“It could have. And normally I’d chew you out for being a fucking tool running into that smoke but it’s probably the only reason they’re even alive right now. So instead of being a dick, now I have to be nice to you and that kind of pisses me off, you know?”

“I do,” I laugh, cough, laugh again. It feels like maybe we’re crossing a bridge here, an agreement of sorts being drawn up as we each measure each other. “How pissed is Abernathy?” I ask after a few minutes and it’s Gale’s turn to laugh, his head shaking as he leans back and clasps his hands together over his chest. 

“Abernathy? He’s got nothing on your Odair. I’m pretty sure he’s on his way over here right now to rip your other leg off,” he jokes and I groan, trying not to think about the inevitable. 

I was definitely on my way home now. Not only was my rotation up soon, but with a damaged prosthetic and Finnick wanting to hold me accountable, there’s no way I was going to keep being able to fulfill my duties. The thought filled me with dread, not only for what I’d be going back to - a probable reprimand and maybe probation - but also what I was leaving behind here. 

Katniss and I had been building something here. We’d laid the groundwork for something good and even though I had no idea how this would work, I didn’t want it to be over just like that. It  _ couldn’t _ be over. I had to see her before I left, that much I was sure of. 

“What’s your plan for you and Catnip?” Gale asks abruptly, practically reading my thoughts. 

“Fuck if I know,” I mumble and shake my head, pressing my fingers into my temple. 

“Better figure it out quick. I hear she’s open to travelling though, if the timing is right,” he adds almost thoughtfully, his large frame getting up from the chair just as Madge comes bustling into the curtained space. She stops dead in her tracks and looks up at Gale, her cheeks flushing pink. “Nurse Undersee, good to see you again.” 

“Ga - Hawthorne. Are you harassing my patient?” She forces professionalism into her voice and I have to swallow back a laugh at the obvious sparks flying in the small space. 

“No ma’am. Just some general brotherhood stuff. You keep up the good work,” he adds with a tip of his head. Madge swats his arm and huffs, turning back towards me with a roll of her eyes. 

“We went on one date and he thinks I hung the moon. Men,” she sighs with exasperation and begins readying my stump for its stitches. 

* * *

It’s an hour after my x-ray when Finnick finally appears between the flaps of curtain at my bedside, his face stoic and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He hovers there, ominous and harsh, before he sighs and moves towards the chair. Flopping onto the plastic, he looks up at me with a shake of his head and his fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me why you should keep your job after the stunt you pulled today,” he grumbles, not willing to look at me as I roll my head towards him. The painkillers make me foggy but still I try to hold it together, my mouth moving around the cotton stuffed in it. 

“‘Cause you love me like a brother,” I murmur, slurry and dripping with syrup. 

“How many painkillers do they have you on right now?” He counters, ignoring my stellar response. I shrug and reach for my blanket, pulling it up to expose the stitched up stump. Finnick groans and gets to his feet, coming around the side of the bed to look at it more closely. “They did a good job. Wouldn’t have had to though if you’d just done what I fucking told you to.” 

“I needed to find her,” I say, the grin splitting my face in half. 

“Other people out there do that, not your job,” he pauses and eases himself onto the edge of my bed, looking down at me with a half-frown. “But Hawthorne says you were why they found them so in a way, you were right to go looking for her.” 

“Had to find her. Can’t lose her,” I slur to Finn’s sigh. 

“Right. I get it. She’s good people and she was - “

“No - had to find her ‘cause I love her. I think. Maybe. Can you ask her if she - “ 

“Jesus Peet, I don’t know if it’s the drugs or if you’re really this far gone on a chick - “ 

“Not the drugs. She’s - she’s good, Finn. She’s just so - “ 

“Don’t need to explain it to me. I’ve got Annie. You know I get it. But we’ve still got a problem with what you did today. It broke all the protocols and put yourself in danger.” 

“I’m fine,” I grumble as Finnick shakes his head. 

“You’re in a hospital bed and your stitches are as angry as the last time you let me in your hospital room. Whatever. I wanted to come and check on you. I’ve done that. So we’ll talk when you’re released, alright? Try to get some rest,” he adds and reaches for my hand, squeezing it before standing up once more. 

“Thanks Finn. Sorry for being in love.” He looks back at me with a shit-eating grin and shakes his head. 

“A fool in love,” he replies and steps beyond the curtain, leaving me to drift back under. 

* * *

I’m rolled into a room and left to wait, my prosthetic confiscated by the repair team and a wheelchair still nowhere to be seen. Though I’d asked for one initially so I could get around my room, all I’d been given in response was a bedpan and a scolding for trying to get out of bed. It was annoying, but I was determined not to complain. 

Somewhere around midnight I get a text telling me Katniss is out of surgery. Around dawn, I hear her sedation has cleared and she’s waking up. By lunchtime, I’m cursing out the morning shift and trying to figure out how I can get someone - literally anyone - to bring me a wheelchair or hell, even some crutches, so I can go see for myself that she’s really alright. 

It only takes five pleading presses of the call button for the nurse to get fed up with me and give into my demands. I skip lunch and struggle to get into the chair myself, careful not to fall and break anything else as I move throughout the room. Ditching my wires, I leave the alarm bells behind and wheel myself down the hallway at a clipped pace. Thankfully, nobody stops me and I make it to the elevator without much issue. 

Down two floors and to the right, I come upon the children’s ward where Katniss and Prim have been settled into the same room together. I hesitate at the door, looking in as Katniss sleeps and Mrs Everdeen slowly brushes out Prim’s hair. 

“Peeta?” Prim rasps, the first to notice me as she sits up. Mrs Everdeen looks towards the door and lifts her brow in surprise, uncertain at seeing my hospital gown and probably the lack of a leg in my chair. “What happened!” 

“Shh, love,” Mrs Everdeen whispers, easing her daughter back onto the mattress. “You’re supposed to be resting and your sister is trying to sleep.” 

“I know but I don’t understand! What happened to your leg?” 

“Don’t worry - I lost it a long time ago,” I respond as I wheel myself into the room, my eyes drifting towards Katniss despite the way her sister tries to draw my attention. “How’s she doing?” 

“She’ll be alright. Had a tough time waking up from the sedatives but they figure with a little physical therapy she’ll be right as rain in a couple weeks,” Mrs Mellark pauses, clearing her throat as I glance towards her. “Gale told me what you did to find us, how you didn’t follow the rules and all. And while normally I’d scold you for being so stupid, I’m also very thankful you found us before it was too late. I don’t know how I can repay you - “

“No, no repayment needed. I’m just glad I found you all with only a few bumps and bruises. It was really just luck,” I add on a stilted laugh, a cough quickly following after that makes Mrs Everdeen shake her head. 

“Alright. Why don’t I take Prim here down to the cafeteria - would you like something Peeta?” I shake my head and watch as Mrs Everdeen eases her daughter into a wheelchair, the bandages on her arm from her burn carefully held to her chest as she settles into the seat. In another minute, they’re gone and I’m left steering myself over to the edge of Katniss’ bed, my nerves buzzing as I look at her soft expression and the hair brushing loosely over her shoulder. 

“Katniss?” I whisper, hesitating for a moment before reaching up to brush the hair back from her brow. She stirs and her eyes flutter open, at first unfocused but then quickly widening to surprise. I half expect her to curse me out but then she’s jerking upward, cursing at the wires and reaching for me as much as she can get until I’ve no choice but to force myself upward on my only leg and let her wrap herself around me. 

“You came back for us. You found us. You found  _ me _ ,” she murmurs into my shoulder, her arms tight around my neck. The position is awkward and I teeter on my leg, dropping my hands from her back to steady myself on the handrail. “What are you - oh,  _ Peeta _ ,” she says as she draws back and sees the reason for my withdrawal, her brow furrowing. “What happened?” 

“It’s just damaged, they’re trying to fix it so they can kick me out,” I answer gruffly, still not over my shock at seeing her awake and alert after all she’s been through. 

“Alright. Well, why don’t you sit here? There’s enough room if I just - oww…” She moans and grabs her elevated knee, the reminder of her surgery finally hitting her as she hisses and flops back on the bed to breathe through the pain. “Sorry - just - maybe sit in the chair.” 

I nod and settle back in the wheelchair, pulling it up as close to the bedside as I can get. In another second I’ve lowered the handrail and she’s pulled herself to the edge, her fingers reaching out to brush my wayward curls back from my forehead. The touch is soothing and I close my eyes, leaning into it like a cat before drawing her hand down so I can kiss her palm, my own hand coming up to cup her face. 

“I was so worried when you ran out of my room and when you didn’t respond to any of my messages. I couldn’t just stay in the Ops Centre, I needed to come find you,” I murmur after a long silence where the only communication seems to be our gentle touches. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I had to find them though - they’re all I have,” she apologizes and I shake my head, lifting up slightly to kiss her and stop her apology in its tracks. 

“It’s okay. I get it. Just, maybe next time you run into a wildfire, send me a text first so I can come find you?” 

“Oh, and what if it’s  _ you _ running into one? I heard from Gale you’re in shit for coming after me,” she interjects on an exasperated laugh, one tight with words left unsaid. 

“I’ll take my licks, it was worth it. And what are they going to do, anyways? Send me home?” The joke is out of my mouth before I’ve thought it through, my laughter dying in my throat. Katniss glances up towards the ceiling and I sigh, reaching to gather her hands in my grasp. “Sorry - “ 

“No, don’t apologize for that. You’re right. You’re going home in what? A week?” I shake my head and sigh, edging closer. 

“Unless they can fix my prosthetic then probably sooner. I’m not much use if I can’t easily move around,” I respond softly, defeat hovering on the fringes of my words. 

“That’s bullshit,” she grumbles. “You can do your job perfectly fine from that chair.” 

“You and I both know it’s more than that,” I urge and she reluctantly nods, blinking rapidly before looking back at me with a solemn look. 

“How does this work? Do we just say goodbye now? Is this it?” 

Though I’d known the question was coming - hell, it was on the tip of my own tongue - it still knocked the air out of me to hear it, especially in Katniss’ broken crackled voice. Whether it was the smoke or the tears I couldn’t help but see in her eyes, it still rocked me to see it plain on her face. This had mattered to her too.  _ I’d _ mattered to her like she mattered to me. 

“It could be,” I pause, shifting to meet her gaze. “Or we could figure it out, if you wanted to try that.” 

“How would that work, exactly?” She counters and a small spark of hope flickers in my chest. It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a decision to end things now. It was something I -  _ we _ \- could work with. 

“I’m not well versed in it either but I’m sure we could figure it out. Come for extended visits, maybe take some exchanges with work. You could come up and spend a few months with me, I could come back for longer next year. We could make it work.” 

“I’m shite at cold temperatures, Peeta,” she jokes and I shake my head, reaching to draw her close. 

“I’ll keep you warm,” I whisper and press myself up and out of my chair until I’m close enough to capture her lips with mine, the kiss sweet and seeking and everything I need to power me onward until we’re wrapped around each other again, our breaths mingling and hearts racing. 

The throat clearing noise is unexpected and I nearly stumble over with it, my hands having to grasp onto Katniss to stop myself from falling to the floor. She squeaks and grasps her arms around me, holding me steady as I regain my balance. Heat fills my cheeks and Katniss starts to laugh, a pleasant giddy sound that is probably one part painkiller, one part realization of what’s just happened. We were doing this. 

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to find you a job too,” Abernathy growls, setting his half-wrapped gift from the gift shop on Prim’s empty bed. 

“Sir?” I counter once I’ve finally settled myself back in my chair. 

“Odair wants to move his family closer to a warm beach. And I figure that based on what I’ve just seen, you won’t be too far behind him looking for work,” he adds before flopping into a chair at the foot of Katniss’ bed. 

“Not yet, at least,” I reply and glance towards Katniss who covers her face and sighs, though there’s a smile hidden behind her hands that lets me know the thought is just as appealing to her. “But maybe next year.” 

“Super,” Abernathy says sarcastically with a shake of his head and a hint of a grin pulling at his lips. I take it as a win and turn back to Katniss with a wink and a kiss to her forehead, the image of us, together by this time next year, filling my mind’s eye with endless possibilities. 

Maybe next year indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thanks for coming on this little adventure with me and thank you so much to jroseley who bid on this work! I'm thankful for you giving me the time to finish this story :)


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